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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The long years are harsh where the hot sun does burn on the sand hills and plains when seasons won’t turn where saltbush and samphire do somehow survive and through these hot days there seems little alive. But shade in the she-oaks can offer relief for creatures surviving who still hold belief the outback’s not dying though is tinder dry… then cotton-wool clouds start to build in the sky. And when it gets humid and balmy at night the sunrise is red with the new dawning light and leaves get up dancing and float on the breeze ants start to scurry and thunder does tease. There’s change on the way and a scent in the air and storm birds are singing to make all aware that drought may be over and soon there’ll be rain the outback will flourish ‘til drought comes again. Now pastel pink earth starts to darken to red as it quenches it’s thirst on the deluge ahead the creek beds awake from their slumber for years and billabongs form behind quick rising weirs. The pans and the lowlands are holding their fill and outstation tanks are now starting to spill so comes a new dawn from a heartbreaking scene when almost like magic the land turns to green. Where a land is vindictive and can be unkind where water is life, and with man undermined where vastness is changing from sleeping repose the buds are now bursting and now they disclose… …a rainbow that travels so long with the eye in a landscape rebirth, to thanks from the sky I’m taking a stroll through a live daisy chain in a carpet of colour that follows the rain.
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