For an Aussie, or in particular a Queenslander, and more particularly a country Queenslander, a verandah is a necessary part of life.
It’s where you observe the world as it passes lazily by; and commune with it, from the earth below to the sky above and all points in between, depending on the angle offered by your verandah chair.
Me, I’ve always found a verandah to be a happy compromise, neither in nor out. And here on Frosty Creek, Muckadilla, my new verandah offers me more in the way of observation at close quarters than I could possibly have hoped for a year ago when Frosty Creek was not on the horizon as a dwelling option for us.
Thanks to the miracles of wireless internet, I can sit here working on my computer with a backdrop (or frontdrop, actually) of Frosty Creek and all it offers. I hear the breeze rustling the leaves of the river gums and box trees, currently lapping up the new life delivered by spring and rain – lots and lots of rain. I can hear, and see, the willie wagtails about their busy business amongst the lower prickly shrubs. I can see myriad white butterflies as they hover and drift and play –presumably – in the wind. I can hear the lambs in the sheepyards calling their mothers, and their mothers calling them, and it never stops when they are in the yards even though they must have well and truly mothered up by now.
And now a flock of sheep wanders past not 10 metres from where I sit, uninhibited by a garden fence (which, happily, we do not have) and heading for the rich pickings which abound in the green grass all about that has made them fat and contented.
A kookaburra calls to his friend; magpies sing, a truly delicious song. The various cheeping and twittering tells of lives being led and bounty being enjoyed by bird life of which I catch only glimpses as the many different birds swing from tree to tree.
I choose electronic silence. There is more sound than enough to satisfy the senses.
© Jane Grieve – www.janegrieve.com.au