We are driving,
moving away from the outskirts of the city with a promise of scenery,
moving out of suburbia into a rural setting,
a loop of sorts that will end with us back in the city,
yet having spent time with nature’s bountiful beauty.
I am driving down a road,
a road that a few years ago was desolate,
burnt,
a scene of despair.
we see flowers,
we see birds,
there are comments about the trees,
they are green,
they are tall,
they are alive.
Our first stop,
a picnic spot that is filled with sunlight and shade,
plenty of space for families,
games,
reading a book under a tree.
We stay here momentarily,
my charges want to see more,
they want to see more of the river,
the trees and the hills.
We drive across a bridge,
there are trees,
massive trunks split and broken,
jammed under the bridge,
a casualty of the winter floods.
Everywhere we look,
there is new life,
dead trees,
and the white buildings of the observatory,
we are seeing them from behind the hill,
we are seeing them where they would be looking out,
the trees that hid them before are long gone.
This drive is discovery for us all,
for me,
for them,
I am seeing roads that were tree lined,
bare,
They are seeing new things,
exploring a new area close to their backyard,
that they never knew was here.
We come down the road,
around a corner,
into an open area,
and there,
in majesty and glory,
massive and crowning,
the new dam works,
towering cranes that stand tall,
open gouges into the earth,
they exclaim at the size and breadth of this new construction site.
As quickly as it appears,
we round another corner and it is gone,
we are now in its shadow,
down to a bridge with a traffic light,
red,
waiting,
green,
and over the tiny bridge we go.
There was a picnic area here,
there were playgrounds,
there were swings,
now there are gates,
fences,
and I feel disappointed.
I hatch a plan,
we keep driving,
they don’t know where we are going now,
we come to a small town,
I pull in,
stopping,
and we get out of the car.
This place I have come to,
this small shop,
has been here since I was a kid,
my father would stop here,
we would get out,
and there was the promise of a drink,
on a warm day.
This general store,
this small slice of the past,
hasn’t changed over the years,
outside.
We buy modern drinks,
back in the car,
I tell them we are close to home,
they laugh,
it is a joke?
then we see the sign,
the sign they know,
the golden arches.
We drove in a big loop.
they saw trees,
they saw the river,
they saw lots of signs,
kangaroos,
wombats,
and a traffic light.
when are we doing this again?
when the weather is fine,
when we have a picnic to eat at the first stop,
when we have drinks for the park by the traffic light,
when we just want to get out of town for a while.
