Day 61 Saturday 8/7/2023 Goovigen, sunny cool breeze 6 – 21

I’ve been writing this blog for nearly 8 years and yet, I still feel that I’m unable to capture in words the simplicity and essence of this life. As I washed the dishes this morning, the view of an unkempt paddock, a basic camp kitchen shelter, and a couple of superseded and rusty tennis umpires chairs is soothing. And now as I write this the sun warms my face, yet I’m wearing two pair of mismatched socks on cold feet and an I’ll fitting old H & M jumper, ‘cos I love it and it says ‘camping’. It’s definitely not a fashion statement! My view now is a cricket pitch ordered by a water pipe fence. It’s not Lords. The grass crackles underfoot, it is so dry. Yet, from a distance it is starting to look green. The rain earlier in the week has encouraged tiny new shoots. On days when we are not travelling, this is our life, listening to the caw of a Torresian crow or the warble of a magpie, trying hard to learn and memorise the names of strange and unusual trees and breathing the country air. I guess it’s something that only caravanners understand. Or, to borrow the words of Banjo Paterson:

“For the drover’s life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.

And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him.

In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,

And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,

And at night the wond’rous glory of the everlasting stars.”…….Clancy of the Overflow by Banjo Paterson

It’s a lazy afternoon, walking, reading, wandering and sketching on the cricket pitch, though Elle tells us that her day began when her nightie got caught in the catch of her undie drawer. She had to give it an almighty heave to retrieve a pair of knickers.

A crimson sunset puts on a long show silhouetting the shed and trees.

Accom: $10.00