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Where Eagles Daren't - A Tall Tale

Fleeing from the corona virus, we headed out of town, seeking isolation from infection. Beyond civilisation, beyond the traffic lights, beyond the bitumen and the supermarkets, we came to a wilderness of scrubby brush and stunted trees, occupied by wallabies and emus, crows and kookaburras, nothing dangerous, except the snakes, of course, and the centipedes - well, at least they weren't contagious. We were well prepared: big mobile home, gas cylinders, fresh water, food for a few months - had to find a creek, though. We stayed put overnight, listening to the mopokes, and rustling bush sounds. Inevitably the kookaburras woke us. We found a creek eventually and set up in a clearing - not a beauty spot, Adam Lindsay Gordon* didn't come from here - Skinny, stunted trees, rough, rocky ground, creek half full, no communication, except the radio, for news. Well, we could stay a few months, prescriptions renewed and filled, food and water should last, then go on to get provisions, we weren't that far from the nearest town, about ninety miles off the beaten track. Good thing I brought a gun to deal with the snakes, and a First Aid kit. We were both brought up in the bush, we'd be right, mate, as the ockers say - anyway the corona scare can't last forever. *Early Australian poet 3/22/20 "Wild Country" J. Ward

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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