In the Wild

Now I am sitting in an old bus by the Edward River, near Pormpuraaw on the west coast of Cape York. As the day gets warmer, there will most likely be a crocodile or two lounging around on the opposite bank. I am waiting to watch one catch one of the millions of birds that also hang out on the riverbank – shags hanging our their wings to dry mostly, but also exotic long-legged waterbirds and many other species. There is a cockatoo tree across the river, populated by a noisy bunch who periodically all scream out of the tree, do a few loops of the river and then all swoop home to settle back in on their branches. I wish I had my Simpson & Day bird book here…I also wish I had a good book on the flora and fauna of Cape York. The bush is rich, despite the sandy salty soil – and I recently read that the Cape is being considered for World Heritage listing. It is certainly a wild and beautiful place.

Sunrises over the river are mellow and golden, bringing warmth and depth to the colours of the two fishing boats moored just 20 metres away from my bus. The highlight of my days are the sunsets though, brilliant colours strewn across the sky and across the endless tidal flats, catching little pools in luminous flashes of pink and orange. There are always birds there too, great flocks of geese, pelicans and wading birds all ready to startle at my approach and make the perfect photo as they arc across the sky.

Down on the beach I also practise my singing exercises, gratefully copied onto my mp3 player from the cds in the back of the most excellent book I found for $4 in the opshop. I can really let go here and join my spirit to the endless sky and sea – it’s the most amazing feeling. I can imagine how it must be for singers performing live for thousands of people – it’s possible that the birds appreciate my efforts, but it really doesn’t matter! It gives me the greatest satisfaction I’ve known for a while.

Most creatures are here for the fish though – great huge king salmon, queenfish and barramundi, which are my daily diet. Can never get too much fresh fish …(sorry Graeme!) And neither can the huge numbers of hawks and ospreys hovering overhead all day, seeking out the fish carcasses that remain after filleting. Enough food is thrown out each day to keep quite a few crocodiles and an army of eagles happy for weeks. Wild nature is so bountiful, it makes me marvel at how incredibly rich and plentiful food would have been in this country before the arrival of Captain Cook and the industrial revolution changed our world forever. The beach here is strewn with more shells than I have ever seen anywhere else, a reminder of the riches beneath the sea.

Speaking of CC, I watched as Venus traipsed across the sun yesterday, that tiny little speck that is I think about the same size as our earth. Kath and I got excited and bought a box of 50 eclipse shades to share around for this event and for the solar eclipse in November this year. So I saw the wee little black dot as it slowly pursued its endless path. I love these celestial events for keeping it all in perspective. I love the big, big skies here and in the desert too – it is so special and so healing after spending so much time in the confines of my beloved home valley, which can be a bit narrow at times.

I am supposed to be here to tutor a little 6 year-old boy, which I did last week – but he and his mum have gone off to a funeral and I am left with plenty of time on my hands to settle in and grok this place. I have had two job interviews on the phone this week too, both of which made me feel like an intelligent human being with something to offer – which I enjoyed a lot. It has been hard at times to find deep equanimity and self-confidence this year, after being laid very low with a bout of Shingles and an ongoing problem with bursitis in my hip – and not finding work or even being offered an interview. I know all these things are just part of my learning and I try to be patient and accept that all is as it should be, but it is nice to be noticed and appreciated – and if am not offered those jobs, that is probably fine, because I am also quite looking forward to going home and being able to live in my little house and be active in my community again, once Elvis has her house built and I can reclaim mine. Before I forget what its like to have a home and a community!

Though I have to say I am enjoying very much having my own space here and the people are friendly and accepting. Not to mention the poor lonely pig whose mate became bacon a few days ago and who is now following me everywhere, even to the beach – and I don’t think it is just for food. Even though that pig lives for food and spends most of its time working out new ways to break into the house and consume whatever of the stores it can. It won’t be long before it is bacon too. I am most impressed with my host Cathy’s ability to shoot a pig, clear fishing nets, gut and fillet fish all day and still be a very sweet and loving mum.

Tyrone, the little boy that I am tutoring, is sweet too – possibly a wee bit dyslexic I think, so I am researching kinesiology Brain Gym exercises ...we do lessons down on the beach, beautiful. The curriculum for Year One is a bit daunting – a huge amount of work is expected of the kids. Writing in the sand and using shells for maths, seems to suit both of us.

This place is really run by the animals though. As well as the pig, there is a silly cat who spends her days climbing up onto the roof and then sliding down the shademesh to land with a thud on the next roof, before racing down, around the house a few times in a manic spree and then up the nearest tree and onto the roof again. If she would also keep off the kitchen benches and leave the food alone, I could like her better – but it’s not that sort of establishment. We are living rough here and hygiene is low in the priorities. Which doesn’t bother the troop of brown, black and speckled white chooks, with their two roosters who compete to be first up every morning, or the eight guinea fowl, the two turkeys, the lone duck, or the two dogs who are actually quite good company and at least don’t seem to poo all over the yard. The animals all tend to hang around the kitchen window, waiting for scraps to come their way – I have watched a whole chook family: rooster, hen and baby all perched high on the gas bottles, watching me with their beady eyes as I wash the dishes. This is my self-appointed role, the best I can do to satisfy my urge for some semblance of suburbia in the wilds. When I go back to Cairns, I don’t want to suffer too much shock at the new kitchen in the townhouse that Kath and I have rented in Holloways Beach. If the flight path wasn’t so close…ah, but that’s another story.

Anyways, I can save a bit living here – and have an offer from Cathy to stay on for another few months. All the illness I’ve had this year has made me question what I am doing looking for fulltime work. Being up here this winter is mostly just to escape living in a caravan through a cold wet winter. (And enjoying the beach, something you don’t get much of in the valley.) I really just want to go home when it gets a bit warmer, have a great big sixtieth birthday party and get back into being part of my own community. Maybe my singing will have improved enough from all the practice that I will feel bold enough to get into some performance. The celebration of 40 years since the Aquarius Festival and the foundation of Tuntable are worth working for, even if its unpaid. And the encroaching menace of Coal Seam Gas needs everyone’s attention.  So I am thinking to take up Cathy’s offer and only stay up here till September. That gives me three months to make the most of it!