ABOVE: Gays Hill during the floods. Photo: Daniel Cohen
THE FLOOD Tuesday, March 1
by Tony Hennessy from Gays Hill
It is 4 o’clock Tuesday morning
The wind has stopped,
the continuous drowning rain has abated.
There is not a sound.
It is eerie.
The power failed last night.
There are no streetlights, there is no moon
I don’t remember this darkness.
The cattle in nearby paddocks have gone.
The pre-dawn lowing is total silence.
Have they moved to higher ground, or been washed away?
The paddocks are a flood plain, freely flowing to the river.
It is so high it is sweeping everything before it.
There are no bird sounds, there are no frog sounds, there are no dogs barking.
There are no people moving around, nobody getting ready for the early shift.
The roads are closed, there are no cars on the road; there is nowhere to go.
An anxious relative phoned to warn of looters,
But not even the criminals could get through this flood.
Who knows what we will find when we can return to our businesses.
For many this will be the last roll of the dice.
Drought, flood, bushfire and Covid. Now this.
This will be the reason for many to close the doors and walk away.
And yet in this stillness there is peace.
For the first time in months there is a release.
Maybe the time to walk away.
Just give up and look for a simpler life.
Maybe just find solace with less.
and then