We are where we always were
The
circle that we are,
The
horizon is but a blink away,
The
near, sometimes far
And
yet we feel we’ve come this long
We’ve
conquered many lands,
When
all the while, the river moved
Us
stuck in golden sands
The
colours of the world will change -
But,
they are not, for us to claim,
They
are but part of the seasons’ flow,
As
the land remains the same
Mirages
daub our kingdom walls,
Dreams
our daily prayer -
One
blinking move of nature’s eye
And
we’re back to where we were…
5th
March’ 2022
The
lands are drowned in nature’s tears, as floods engulf the surrounds of the city.
The rivers in particular are in full swell as the dams overflow and the banks gasp
for breath. The historic city of Windsor, 30 km from where I stay is flooded by
the overflowing Hawkesbury river. A bridge I walked on, just a couple of weeks
back, is now under water such is the volume of summer’s storms. On my last
visit to Windsor, I visited its museum and ironically read a fair bit of the
massive floods that shook the historic township way back in the 19th
century – Governor Macquarie had established Windsor with four other townships on
the Hawkesbury river to supply food to the colony at Sydney – mindful of
floods, he had specifically laid out the towns to be least affected by rising
waters of the enraged river. Yet, sometimes, nature’s fury cannot be pre-empted
or prevented as was seen in the Great Flood of 1867. Even after 150 years, it
seems we are still where we always were….
Cover image: Author's archives, photo of the Hawkesbury river from the Windsor Bridge; Digital art below of Windsor made in sunnier times
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