He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother

Near Tallangatta

The road is long
With many a winding turns
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where

But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

                                                    

The Hollies

I remember passing across the causeway at Tallangatta. I remember turning left and passing farmland. I remember the pretty camp site and that magnificent tree. But I can't remember its name. Pigs...something. A rather awful name but a quiet refuge by a river which attracted a handful of trout fishermen. I remember the next morning asking a farmer the quickest way to where we were going. I remember his friendly demeanour and how he rested his arm upon the bonnet of Snowy and wanted to talk for ever. We admired his beautiful garden that his wife had spent a lifetime on (but she now preferred to embroider). Such is the lay back way we encountered on this trip. Simple kindness, no obligation, no division, no complaint, no judgement. Just acceptance and a willingness to help.