I love a sunburnt country
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me!
As Dorothea Mackellar expressed so well in her poem "My Country", Australia historically is a land of extremes, as the farmers well know. Devastatingly depressing, as they struggle with stress and anxiety, loss of hope and collectively the loss of millions of dollars in income.
As Dorothea Mackellar expressed so well in her poem "My Country", Australia historically is a land of extremes, as the farmers well know. Devastatingly depressing, as they struggle with stress and anxiety, loss of hope and collectively the loss of millions of dollars in income.
From - The Australian Jan 11 - Floods in Queensland.
Mental health organisation, Lifeline, is preparing for a surge in rural depression as, after years of drought, farmers watch their bumper harvests being washed away by floods.'
We forget, because of 10 years of drought, that land floods. Perhaps the lesson is to keep the receipts, particularly in the cities, where new standards are obviously needed to prevent urban development in flood prone areas. The environmental and social consequences are often overridden with the primary interest being the economic value of the land.
Wisdom from G, who grew up on the land, "Farmers wouldn't build their home on a flood plain, as they live with the land not from the land. Farmers today understand their forefathers didn't farm appropriately for Australian conditions but today's farmer has a different appreciation. They are considered the best 'dryfarmers' in the world, eg growing rice with approx 1/3 the amount of water than in Asia.
Hopefully, the following years with full dams and replenished underground water storage, will be more positive for the Aussie cockies who keep us supplied with fabulous produce and by the way, they are not subsidised. Flood can follow drought but even if there is little rain in the period to follow, good harvest will normally occur due to the underground storage and moist soils." Clara
My Country
by Dorothea Mackellar (1885 - 1968)
The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me!
A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.
Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die-
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.
Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold-
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.
An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land-
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand-
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.
Click on 'comment' at bottom of page to have your say or email clara@babyboomerconnections.com.au
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