We have just returned from a holiday at Porepunka, just a short distance from Bright, which is a 3.5 hours’ drive from Melbourne via the Freeway. Our cabin abutted the Ovens River which is depicted below and not far away is Mt Buffalo. Other scenes are from the surrounding country. The images don't do the scenery justice. Click to enlarge for a much better appreciation.
Below is a picture of yours truly and later on the right in blue is my wife Anne. We enjoyed the trip and company amongst friends immensely. Driving up I was struck with the sudden change in scenery which prompted this poem.
On the road to Bright
Brown paddocks and scrubby land beside the road,
The blue sky yields patches of grey, but still no hope of rain
A parched land whose streams end in empty water holes
Once filled with life, but now still, except for a lonely wind.
Llke sentries, the grey gums stand defiant,
Reservoirs of life, what memories stored in gnarled trunks,
of droughts and times of plenty, when new life abounds
Now a test of fortitude, to stand in timeless stoic pride.
But now we see a gentler hue, of patches of green,
Like a mirage in the desert, an oasis of hope,
As if by chance, a new land appears.
From brown to green, from scrub to forest thickets.
Now cattle graze, on green woodland glades,
content and sleek, by fast running streams,
What grace is this, a tiny slice of providence -
velvet green and autumn gold.