by TONY STEVEN WILLIAMS
On the rammed earth of this dam wall,
I rest my backpack, look across the water
under gentle summer twilight. Something sad
yet glorious about those drowned gum trees.
Their silver-grey skeletons stag-horn
above the gleam of the lake congregating
like frozen spirits against a darkening blue sky.
Soft frog music ripples from my left; all around,
a refreshing scent lulls me into contemplation.
I imagine the ghostly trees talking a language
foreign to my ears. I fancy them reminiscing
about the good old days when their sap ran full,
sheep munching in shade, before the dam
flooded the farm providing sanctuary,
wetland, habitat – bringing back country.
Perhaps they’re discussing life
before the farm, a chosen few boasting
proud scars from donating their wood
for coolamons used to gather bush tucker:
yam daisies, bulbine lilies, native raspberries . . .
I speculate on those sylvan conversations,
then extrapolate back, thousands of years,
and wonder how this place looked
when climate and terrain were different. Suddenly,
lights pop in the baby suburb across the fences;
I flash my torch and head back for the Centre.
The boardwalk chats lightly under my boots.
My steps I visualise as markers in time,
a journey curving into a blurry future.
– Woodland sanctuary, north-eastern Canberra, ACT
– Coolamons are multi-purpose shallow vessels or dishes traditionally used by Aboriginal people to carry water, fruits, nuts and other types of bush tucker.
– A ‘stag’ is a name sometimes given to a drowned tree.