Oh, I see it is the time
of the year for lace faced fungus,
woodlice and red-bellied ants, snails
that deckle our mail, and the trimming
of our curry tree.
In the shallow pond
across the road a white-faced heron
looks for frogs and freshwater snails
grateful for anything in this muddy water.
We walk by
dogs sniffing the news,
looking where new growth
grows green and bright from the late
summer brushfire. It looks so fresh against
the charred trunks.
In dried edges
of the pond, before its
low banks, the council tried
a re-vegetation program at the end
of summer, but
the heat hung on,
and now we see the few
survivors dusted off by late
autumn rain. I straighten bamboo
placed to prop up
new plants. Last year
and the year before that
we did the same - small areas
of fledgling trees and bushes
support each other
as their root systems
tap into the subterranean
water sources or spread out
laterally to catch what moisture there is
just below the surface.
Perseverance is
the name of the game,
returning to the earth what
is the earth's for the earth to
be continued.
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