In this place there are a number of songs that seem to pop up fro time to time, one is the Beatles’ “Tomorrow Never Knows” with that wonderful line “Turn off your mind relax and float down stream …” On so many levels that is applicable in this place, the Blackwood River, Augusta.
Blackwood Seasons Time softens, flattens, slows, the blade a pleasing splosh and slurp as we glide the water, Dolphins at the bow, Whiting below. There are memories here of life seasons. Kairos, time within time. My footfall feeling the earth as we weave the trails. Either the softness of green, or the crackle and crunch of the dry. Blind ends, bends that beckon, stumps covered in moss and lichen. The granite is unyielding. Light plays across the leaves and bathes the bush in a warm palette that pleases my eyes, in reality my mind; though it really is my heart. Surely, it is my heart. Birdsong pushes through the whispering breeze, the leaves as triangles and tibrels, the bough as cello. Though I hear a kangaroo in the distance, I cannot see it, nor the scuttling ghekkos and skinks. The rain. Of course the rain, petrichor abundant. And rivulets forming little creeks running home to big sister and brother. I relax. Iam home, I am in my place in the world. ©Paul Cannon
Paul,
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