Saturday, March 3, 2012

Childe st.

Joining the Eden fresh horses brigade today in the 'Its a Sign' prompt.

Rain is converging on the mountains in the distance, and with it, a cool breeze is starting to swirl, penetrating this thick steam of heat. The 3.05 freight train hoots as it passes through this town. The sky is rumbling and the school kids are squealing in the school yard around the corner, as they surely must sense home-time and the coming change that this storm is about to bring. 

People say the only good thing about this town is the view of that mountain range. Too true.

I have parked out the front of my Grandma's old place, as I have a few moments to spare before collecting our girl from pre-school. This street is on a slight hill and the stillness is heavy with the heat. I have the doors flung open in the Suburu and am tapping away with all the sounds and feelings around me.  

The house is no longer here though. Two compact town houses sit neatly in its place. No side lane, no old granny pots full of succulents and no front fence. Looks like no backyard either. Which means no passion-fruit, or apples growing out there. No wonder or whimsical navigation to it. Even the paper-bark tree is gone from the front nature strip.

I stood in front of it a few months back when I walked into town the day of my unplanned grave visit. I had stood there looking for any remnants of it's past, but it had been wiped clean, with it's  immaculate modern garden and it's concreted driveways. As I walked away my heart felt heavy. So taking another glance I sighed, and thats when I saw that spiky pesky little Aloe pushing through the black weed mat and the more I looked the more I could see those tiny spikes penetrating the conservative modern, oh so tasteful garden. I was chuffed, I thought fuck you townhouses with your no front yard or backyard, you can't get rid of Grannies succulents, And wipe everything clean as if things didn't exist. 

Nature will survive way past our bullshit. 

These are the signs which makes me know everything will be okay in this world. Nature will consume us back whether we return to her in ashes or bones. We got no where to go but back. Nowhere. She's just sitting there smugly at out plights to destroy her. We will all be fodder for her soil and her roots. Feeding her in our ridiculousness.

Mother earth has got my back, and she's got yours too.

Some of the succulents saved from Grannies house.


  1. This is amazing Rex - both the writing (which is beautiful) and the fact that just last week I too was thinking about Grannie's old place in Childe Street as I drove past it myself on my way to get somewhere. I was very sad to not see the little cottage, the little portico and the window we used to sneak in and out of. Just being in the street though reminded me of those days. Good and bad. xxxx

    1. Thanks Leah Jo,

      Funny little place it was. And the window...cheeky. Mum's gonna read this and go whaty? ha ha! There was not too much bad, I don't reckon. I just remember standing in front of the mirror teasing our 80s hairstyles.


  2. It's amazing how connected to the earth you are. The ground. I have never been a strong swimmer but have recently taken to swimming I have always felt connection with the water. And I have to say I think i am water. I think I Am sea. I think that is me. Does nature pull us closer as we get older?

    1. I think it definitely does. In many different ways.

      Water is sensational, I think it suits you well. xx

  3. What beautiful writing. I love that your Granny's succulents were still there, making themselves be known.

    1. Thankyou Naomi, succulents are so hard to get rid of, but it made me giggle to know not everything can be wiped away.

  4. Fabulous! I love the determined spirit of Granny's succulents! I never considered that Mother Nature has our backs - what a great thought! x

  5. Ta, we are all nature I guess, no matter what we do to ourselves. We are all in it together. x

  6. It comforts me, to know that nature will always win. Some truths are so darn needed, just to let you remind you what your place is in the scope of things. When my head gets too cloudy with thoughts that present themselves as too impressive and important, I love to go to a hill and overlook the tiny world to remember this. Looking from the ground from the succelents, up into the world is the same thing, just the other way around.
    i like that, I like that a lot.
    Thank you for this well written piece.

  7. I'm not sure what I love more -- this post or the fact that when I was reading it and writing on a different post of yours YOU WERE WRITING ON MY BLOG.

    That's wonderful, isn't it?

    I'm so glad we met.



    1. Yes, that is so cool!

      Pam your recent post was so moving.

  8. I fucking love this post .... and I'm sorry to swear but it's just that fucking good.

    You write your Spirit in your blog, you know.


  9. Thanks eden. Means a lot when you say you like my stuff! Its been over a year since I wrote this and your comment was written.

    Not that you will get this message... But right now you have disappeared from your blog.... and I hope you are ok. I understand the need to repair yourself in any way you can.

    We are all made of stars girl. xxoo