ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK
ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK
A BUSHMAN'S MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK ©
Quiet is the morning before the sky begins to lighten and heavy on the ground is dew, for the air is rather cold while a mo-poke say's his last
goodbye as his eyelids slowly begin to tighten and an old man stamps his feet, to stop his toes from freezing then shuffles though the frosty
grass with morning chores to do, as he, stirs the fire into life to boil the billy for he is camping and so he squats by the fire feeling that cheery
warmth, while he watches the stars slowly disappear, before the morning light and that billy it‘s now boiling and there's tea leaves coming forth now needed to make a welcome brew, as he greets the coming day.
He’ll Listen to kookaburras laughing, and the magpies chortling too, and he’ll hear those parrot chattering as they make a happy sound,
now welcoming in the day as he peacefully sits and quietly thinks of those many memories of those years when camping on the track.
Bill Williams ©
Quiet is the morning before the sky begins to lighten and heavy on the ground is dew, for the air is rather cold while a mo-poke say's his last
goodbye as his eyelids slowly begin to tighten and an old man stamps his feet, to stop his toes from freezing then shuffles though the frosty
grass with morning chores to do, as he, stirs the fire into life to boil the billy for he is camping and so he squats by the fire feeling that cheery
warmth, while he watches the stars slowly disappear, before the morning light and that billy it‘s now boiling and there's tea leaves coming forth now needed to make a welcome brew, as he greets the coming day.
He’ll Listen to kookaburras laughing, and the magpies chortling too, and he’ll hear those parrot chattering as they make a happy sound,
now welcoming in the day as he peacefully sits and quietly thinks of those many memories of those years when camping on the track.
Bill Williams ©
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Re: ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK
A SYDNEYSIDERS MEMORY OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK.
The morning is noisy with those rotten kookaburras and the dew is on the ground and on my head where it fell out of the sleeping bag.
Can't open my eyes, they are full of cockie poo and I don't know if my feet are freezing cause I can't feel them.
The fire won't go, it rained in the night and all the wood is soaked. Blast !!
so I'll have to have a drink of coke instead of warm tea.
Shut up ! you noisy birds. The magpies crapped on my tent, I'll have to clean that up now and the parrots chewed on my car trim. Mongrels !
Ah what lovely memories of camping on the track. I need a big caravan I think with all mod cons.
The morning is noisy with those rotten kookaburras and the dew is on the ground and on my head where it fell out of the sleeping bag.
Can't open my eyes, they are full of cockie poo and I don't know if my feet are freezing cause I can't feel them.
The fire won't go, it rained in the night and all the wood is soaked. Blast !!
so I'll have to have a drink of coke instead of warm tea.
Shut up ! you noisy birds. The magpies crapped on my tent, I'll have to clean that up now and the parrots chewed on my car trim. Mongrels !
Ah what lovely memories of camping on the track. I need a big caravan I think with all mod cons.
Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
Re: ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK
Struth you city dwellers ain't been or seen nothing yet you poor buggers,
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Re: ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK

Actually it is peaceful out in the scrub waking up to the fresh country air. I have done it. Not on the track but up along the Turon River.
Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
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Re: ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK
G/day Bill
It's sometimes more of a pleasure to look back on those days than it actually was at the time, especially if there was frost.
I can vividly recall my reluctance to leave the warmth of the fire on such mornings.
But once the sun gets up a bit it soon floods the surrounds with early warmth - magic.
Cheers Terry
It's sometimes more of a pleasure to look back on those days than it actually was at the time, especially if there was frost.
I can vividly recall my reluctance to leave the warmth of the fire on such mornings.
But once the sun gets up a bit it soon floods the surrounds with early warmth - magic.
Cheers Terry
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Re: ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK
...
yeah you're right Terry, remembering is the best part...when there is ice on your swag it takes some coaxing you out sometimes...it's great to be able to remember it Bill....but I'm glad I don't have to do it now, even though I thought is was OK at the time.

Ross
Re: ABUSHMANS MEMORIES OF CAMPING ON THE TRACK
Try doing the death watch with cattle 2.00am till 8.00am. Then at 5.00am cut a dry frozen tussock then put it onto the cold cooking fire poor some kero on it and coach it back into life add some wood then put the Tea water bucket on to boil then wake the cook all the time stamping your feet to keep them warm and then of back around the cattle as they start rise and see the stir steam rising of the ground where they were laying. Yes mate those were the days.
That you would like to forget but they were the memories that we remembered bloody freezing cold in the early morning and flammin hot during the day
Bill Williams
That you would like to forget but they were the memories that we remembered bloody freezing cold in the early morning and flammin hot during the day
Bill Williams