God Whispers

Until recently Queensland was in severe drought. Parts still are. This was written a while ago but is still applicable in some areas. I pray for the farmers who still suffer the effects of drought. The land is aching. Parched. I look from my veranda to dry yellow-brown grass, plants dying, even weeds wilting. The entire countryside is tired, drained. The river has shrunk in parts to a narrow silver thread, trickling lazily over dry rocks. Only the deep hole there to swim and cool off. Down near the little stream are banks of cracked mud. Dry and scaly. In the wet weather the mud swells, and now it has shrunk. Further up, big cracks form in the land. Crows make loud protesting ‘ark’ sounds. They hover and flap in the dusty air. Over dinner one night I comment how pretty the yellow-flowering creepers are on the trees near the bank. “They’re a pest,” Jim tells me. “They kill the trees. Suck the life out of them. They’re parasites.” Oh. I wonder if, in dr...

I’m floating along the Mary River in a small canoe. It’s late spring and the warm sun is balm on my back.  I relax and forget the busy life I’ve been leading back in town. I’m on holidays.                                                    Photo - Roger and Daphne Saunders Branches trail across the river’s edge, dripping vines into the water. Tiny wrens break the silence with their twittering.  The current carries me towards the Homestead shores, so there’s no need to paddle now. Just bask in the sun and enjoy the silence and the beauty as I drift on the current. Dragonflies glisten, their wings catching the sunlight as they skip across the water weed. Beside me float images of pine-clad mountains, trees and clouds. They skim along on the river’s surface.  Great billowing grey and white clouds s...