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Re: [Roadsters] OT - Fires in OZ

To: Ruth <ruth@earlydatsun.com>
Subject: Re: [Roadsters] OT - Fires in OZ
From: Phill Brook <fairlady@bigpond.com>
Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2009 10:11:05 +1100
The weather events in Australia of the last couple of weeks have set  
new, and not necessarily desirable, records. Half of Queensland under  
water (for our American friends the floods cover an area larger than  
Texas). A record heatwave acros the South. But the magnitude of the  
fires in Victoria really are horrifying. So many dead, injured and  
homeless. Even worse, it looks like some of the fires are the result  
of arson.

I, like many roadster owners, have enjoyed driving the roads around  
the affected areas. We've stopped for brunch or a refreshing drink in  
towns like Marysvile or Kingslake. Their rustic charms, so close to  
Melbourne are now gone.

When events like this happen I can't help but think of Australian  
poet Dorothea MacKellar's most famous poem.

Phill B

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 drought and flooding rains,
   I love her far horizons,
   I love her jewel sea,
   Her beauty and her terror -
   The wide brown land for me.

The tragic ring-barked forests
   Stark white beneath the moon,
   The sapphire-misted mountains,
   The hot gold hush of noon.
   Green tangle of the brushes
   Where lithe lianas coil,
   An orchids deck the tree-tops
   And ferns the crimson 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.
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