AUSSIE COUNTRY SHOWS
© David Judge
Winner, 2025 Silver Swagman (Bronze Sawgman special one-off) Award, Winton, Queensland.
I can hear the crack of stockwhips and the chatter at the bars
and the screams of girls colliding in those coloured dodgem cars,
where the spiels from scruffy spruikers with their show bags and their toys
are a drawcard for the children midst the hype and all the noise.
I can hear the shrieks of terror from the Haunted House of Fear
and the shooting range is back again to where it was last year,
with the sound of pellets pinging as the ducks drop one by one
and the joy from courting couples choosing prizes they have won.
I can see some farm machinery and tractors large and small
near a tent to ID feral pests with pictures on a wall,
where a kid is eating fairy floss that’s wrapped around a stick
and his sister has an ice-cream that her puppy wants to lick.
I can see an information tent for sheep and cattle breeds
and the tent next door is full of tools a farmer sometimes needs,
which includes a range of water pumps and irrigation lines
near a queue that’s formed not far away to taste the local wines.
I can hear the chug of engines that rely on oil and steam
and the blokes who have restored them are a dedicated team,
but the screaming chainsaw demo on a heavy hardwood log
sees a couple battling vainly to restrain their barking dog.
I can hear a muffled microphone announcing ring events
as the woodchop competition starts with blokes who are immense,
but the Grand Parade of winners are lined up and set to go
with their ribbons that the judges put on Champions of the Show.
I can see the local produce in the Exhibition Hall
where there’s tea with cream and sponge cake at the Country Women’s stall,
and the best merino fleeces are displayed to show each prize
near the pumpkins that the judges placed for colour and their size.
I can see some country clobber and Akubras stacked on racks
and a crowd is gathered round a pit with adders, browns and blacks,
where the local P&C are selling sandwiches and snags
with a girl who’s selling home-made fudge in painted paper bags.
I can hear some cattle bellow whilst the others chew their cuds
as the owners chat in earnest with the other cattle studs.
and I love the sound of children in the farmyard babies’ pen
as they hold a downy duckling or chase chickens and a hen.
I can hear the loud applause from where the bull-rides can be seen
and the tough and rugged stockmen from the scrub are deadly keen,
as the tension mounts inside the chute as bull and rider wait
for the clowns to be the back-up as they open up the gate.
I can see the local nursery has pots of shrubs and trees
near a bank that’s come to emphasize their charges and their fees,
and the cops are there to have a yarn to reaffirm our trust
as the local Council’s water truck starts spraying for the dust.
I can see the weathered faces of the people off the land
and the way they greet each other as they shake each other’s hand,
but to see their dedication to so many farmyard breeds
is a monument to farmers which is what this country needs.
It’s a cultural tradition in so many rural towns
where you get to see amazing sights and hear so many sounds,
that proclaim our country’s heritage ensuring we all know,
there is nothing more fair dinkum than an Aussie Country Show.
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