People in Your Neighbourhood

Oh, who are the people in your neighbourhood?
In your neighbourhood
In your neighbourhood
Say, who are the people in your neighbourhood?
The people that you meet each day.
                                                    Sesame Street Gang



When Nature's alarm begins to chime
With the first few rays of light
A fisherman's silhouette will be at sea
Line caste
Feeling the bite.
A second alarm wakes all the rest
A sleepier laid back group
White shoes, white pants and a carry bag
Bowls polished
To the club they swoop.
The third alarm is gradual and soft
As humans desert the street
Wildlife wanders in and settles to rest
Juicy foliage
They plunder and eat.


Chirpy parrots party
Blue eyed birds gawk
Old Emu struts, stares and stalks
While forlorn Magpies get beaten by the Hawks!
(Go  the Hawks!)





















 When life closes in
 And you need some space
  Come to quiet Woodgate
  What a gorgeous little place.
  The streets are empty
  Little kids are few
  Average age here is 102.
                                    You can walk, swim and read
                                    You can fish and bowl and booze.
                                    You can knit and read and yarn
                                    You can play cards or just snooze.
                                    When the sun sinks low
                                    And the day is at an end
                                    Come down to the club, have a listen to the band.
                                    It's a cheap meal too
                                    Salad, steak and hot chips.
                                    By jove, you wouldn't miss it
                                    It's a total eclipse.
                                    So get your glad rags on 
                                    Come and shake your tush.
                                    Swing your hips to Tina Turner
                                    As you do the Nutbush.


                                              Oh what a night!




post script: Woodgate has a beautiful beach. It's a quiet restful town, just like holiday towns should be. There are a few lovely bush walks through the National Park that skirts the town. Refresh yourself for a day or a week. The people here are friendly and welcoming. There is a general store on the esplanade but a short thirty minute drive will take you to the delightful town of Childers.

Under the Boardwalk

(Under the boardwalk) out of the sun
(Under the boardwalk) we'll be havin' some fun
(Under the boardwalk)  people walkin' above 
(Under the boardwalk)   we'll be falling in love
Under the boardwalk, boardwalk!
                                      The Drifters, Bette Midler, Rolling Stones (and all the others)

Across the road from the caravan park

 I found a path I dared to embark   

It was quiet and hushed   

 Not a sound could be heard

Spooky... kooky... kabuki...

But I went forth undeterred.

Trees stood guard in waters deep 

I tiptoed on without a peep

I couldn't see them

But I knew they were there

Spooky...kooky...kabuki...

Something scary filled the air.

Below the reflections  peered two little eyes

Definitely not mine, they were the wrong size

Two turned to four

Then four turned to six
Spooky...kooky...kabuki...

They were out for playing tricks.

(to be continued)

(Under the boardwalk) they were hangin' out there

(Under the boardwalk) they were tryin' to scare

(Under the boardwalk) they were laughin' at me

(Under the boardwalk) they were after Shirley

Under the boardwalk, boardwalk!

Don't Fence Me In

Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above,
Don't fence me in.
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love,
Don't fence me in.
Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze,
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees,
Send me off forever but I ask you please,
Don't fence me in.
                   Music Col Porter/Words Bob Fletcher        
      
Time for refinement
We hit the road
En route to gentrified land.
A caravan park?
By jove that sounds good
Hot showers, flush toilets
How grande!
Refinement you think?
Well maybe not quite
Tis not all as peaceful as seems.
For when the sun rolls around
And the birdies start to sing
They awake, bladders bursting the seams.
Porta potties these days
Relieve the urge
For soft hearted campers tis true.                     
But there's nothing like a giggle
As the night shirts skip and wiggle
In a hurry, on their way to the loo.
In bright plastic clogs
They make the dash
Holding essential accessory tight.
That snappy wee bucket 
Held firmly at hand
Has been used more than once in the night.

There's nothing like a little pooch
Who sits upon your knee
Who jumps with joy to see you
And wags his tail with glee.
Who only wants to please you
His manner full of grace
This dear little dog, a favourite
Deserved Bill's full embrace.
His job was non too easy
Dedication was his strength
He welcomed every visitor
Held none at arm's length.
He knew his pole position
On high ground near the loo
Cause everyone would visit
That much for sure he knew.
No one escaped his welcome
No one missed his eye
If you did by chance walk past him
He'd chase you down or die.
A quiet humble fellow
A shaggy lovable face
A heart of love and kindness
For a lacking human race.


You meet all sorts in caravan parks, including old friends from Inverloch.
Joyce and John, Sue and Huie, Yvonne and Pud and a couple from Cheltenham too...Bev and Chris. We shared a bbq because Yvonne had won 2 meat trays at the bowls club raffle and so had Sue. 4 meat trays, by crickey!! We tucked in awright.

Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head

I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
'Cause I'm free
Nothing's worrying me.                      Burt Bacharach














 In the rain we came to stay
At Elliot Heads
Just for a day.
Colourful locals knocked at the door...
 Please Bill, came we have some more?
   
 At Agnes Water we came to rest
    Among the trees we made our nest.
    A cheeky bird called out a word
    "Bugger off-Bugger off"
     We thought we heard.


     This little pig sat in the grass
 Of many variations, considered high brass
 Home made jobs rendered owners proud
Cough, choke, splutter...
Complete with mushroom cloud.


Goodbye Lake Murphy
    I'll come again soon.
    And remember you well
    Under that large silvery moon.
     Dancing spider eyes from under leaves peep
     Glittering like diamonds around my feet.
     Waterbirds at play
     Cocky's screech fill the air
 Dandelions floating everywhere.
 Little brown frog peeps behind the dunny
 What you see must surely look funny. 
Got me tossed why you hang out in there
The lake is full to brimming
And you'd benefit from fresher air!


The forest was dark
The sky was clear
    All was still...
    What was that dear?
    Eyes watching from every height
    As slowly round the campfire
    Gathered critters of the night.
    OOO-OOO
   Twick-twick-twick
   yakka yakka yakka
  click click click.
  Get me outa here Bill
 QUICK QUICK QUICK.


Lake Murphy glows as the sun sinks low
We listen to the wind and the waters flow.
But the rain clouds threaten
So we stay for just one night
For if we fail to leave by morning
We'll be stuck in mud awright!

Goodbye lazy cows
Chewing the cud.
See ya later long legged birds
Hope you love the mud.

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Merry merry king of the bush is he
Laugh kookaburra
Laugh kookaburra
Gay your life must be.



Lake Murphy Conservation Park.
Located about 490km north west of Brisbane.
Approx 12 km of dirt road that turns to black mud when wet.

Water of Life

 I am no wise man
But I reckon that the Gods of old
Bound the secret fire of life
Inside this dram of gold....

      Acqua Vitae
      Uisge beathe
      Water of Life.


                          


The Dawson River and a smaller stream join here at The Junction in Theodore, a little town that was inundated by floods.

We met Marie at the fence. We stopped because the flowering shrub in her front garden caught our eye.Her husband died seven years ago but there was no way she was leaving her house to go and live in a retirement place to drink cups of tea. She had her garden to keep her busy. And what a pleasant garden it was. She had a keen eye and wondered if that stranger was still sleeping on the verandah of the bowls club. He came into town on a bus and spent the day in the pub before managing to get some shelter from the frost. "Nothing slips by me," she said. "I rang my son and told him about the bloke so my boy came down and had a look but we can't see him." She was happy to take a cutting and pot it up for me but with a few weeks left to travel in Snowy, we thought better of it. "Yes, the floods were bad. I wasn't going to get in the helicopter  but the police said I'd have to go to gaol if I didn't."    

A drizzly day.....would you care for a wee dram?                                                                            

Can't Stop the Music

Everyone you meet, the children in the street
Are swayin' to the rhythm, there's somethin' movin' in them.
There's no place to hide, so why even try?
Can't you hear it comin' your way, it's here to stay.
Music in our walk, music when we talk.
It's really something magic, to lose it would be tragic.
Can't you hear the sound movin' through the ground?
Music makes the world go round.


                                                           Village People


... a story or two inspired by people we've met...




The Scotsman


A tall lean man shared the fire
Of Scottish brogue, available for hire.
Work was scarce, he'd known better times.
He preferred open air
Didn't want the mines.


A ute and swag, his only home;
A long, dark raincoat and a mobile phone.
A hat he wore for warmth or shade,
its' colour nondescript,
tattered and frayed.


Quiet, yet friendly;
A soft spoken man.
Worked the land and headed west;
Well, that was the plan.


His handshake was firm,
relaxed, self assured.
His life not a struggle,
Just easily endured.




A Man and His Girl




He rented his house
And hooked up the van
Immaculate and old
The rig and the man.
His budget was lean
His destination far
He was worried now
Something's wrong with the car.


I'm not getting the miles
He shook his head
Money spent on fuel
left nothing for bread.
I can't go back
The house has been let
If I just push on
I'll end up in debt.


A fellow camper heard the tale
And wandered over,
the man's pain to curtail.
Up went the bonnet
medical masks applied
Surgeons gathered around
They scratched heads and cried.


She's gone, I'm afraid
Her days are but few
The time has come to trade old for new.
The tears, how they fell
How they tumbled down cheeks.
I can't let her go
She's my mate
She almost speaks.
Her headlights laugh
Her bumper grins
Her engine sings like a thousand violins.
I can't let her go
She's a part of me.
The fellow camper went
And came back with some tea.


They sat in a circle
Hearing tales of better days
The man told them stories 
And sang words of praise.
When the mourning was done
Fellow camper hitched her up
Let's take her into town
for a new little pup.


Time will heal the loss
Of the man's old girl
But memories linger on
As new adventures unfurl.


                                       Shirley.



You can't stop the music
Nobody can stop the music....

Looking Out My Back door.

Bother me tomorrow, today, I'll buy no sorrow.
Doo doo doo lookin' out my back door.

                          Creedence Clearwater



What is it about a riverbank?

Rivergums
 ripples
reflections

Laughing kookaburra
Rainbow Lorikeet
Sulphur-crested Cockatoo
Singing Honeyeater
Black Swan
Black duck
Galah
Magpie
Heron
so many I cannot name.
But I do know our little Willie Wagtail.


Splash!
Birds dive

Birds swim
Birds fish
Birds sing
and twitter
and call out to each other.
Birds show off
and play and chase.
If only I could call them by name.
They are friendly little feathered friends
All of them.






Storytelling done
Above I see the sun
Dreaming must stop
There's washing to be done.




Doo doo doo lookin' out my back door.

 

If you come down to the river
Bet you gonna find some people who live
You don't have to worry cause you have no money
People on the river are happy to give...

Rollin'
Rollin'
Rollin' on the river.

Old Time Religion

Gimme that old time religion
Gimme that old time religion
Gimme that old time religion
It's good enough for me.
                                         Traditional.

We spotted this man and his dog on the streets of Charlieville. Does he roam the byways of outback Queensland preaching the gospel, or perhaps, stand on the main corner in town, bible in hand, calling his message to passers by? Maybe he heralds the word beneath this tree in the local park?

                                                                                      

After lunch in the park we drove out to Morven where we found this terrific little camp spot.


Park the car, pop the roof and position yourself in the sun.

On the other side of the river
As the day lay down to rest
The night hushed
The air chilled
.....on with the thermal vest!










 Thanks again, to the local shire for providing hot showers, and even for some lucky earlybirds, POWER!

Blue Skies

Blue skies smiling at me
Nothin' but blue skies do I see
                                                Willie Nelson




As we headed north, the cloud slowly but surely gave way to bluer skies.
We decided to drive the extra miles and make our second camp in Gundabooka National Park.
It was a good decision.
Gundabooka is approximately 50kms SW of Bourke.
And it was freezing last night...minus 6.
We tucked into a hot curry casserole and then into bed socks and beanies.

After the big chill, the sun rose and the birds sang. By 9am it was blue skies and we were doing a 5km walk through a small section of the park. 

                                                         

                                                  

But it's the warmth we're after so back into Snowy.

Me and Billy McG....

Windshield wipers slappin' time, I was holding Bobby's hand in mine
We sang every song that driver knew...
                                                                           Janis Joplin

I wasn't quite holding Billy McG's hand            
 but windshield wipers joined the band awright.

   The last leaf dropped -
   We were off and running.




  Chasing truckies
    Engine humming
                                                                   


                                               
     


                                                                              Fog
           through the Great Divide
          New phone GPS as our guide.

                                                     



   60km south of Hay
  Black Swamp awash with ducks at play.



Murrumbidgee
Rug on knee
Crisp night air
Contemplate tea.
Hot soup
Walk riverbanks
A warming Red 
A heartfelt thanks.




Thanks also to the RV friendly town of Hay.
Fantastic camping area and spotless hot showers.