notes to Ian Fairweather...

Ian,

I cannot describe to you the space anymore...
it must be no longer familiar....
with all the houses, cars, shops and lights
it is not what once was....
I found your grove of callitris
a remnant amidst suburbia encroaching

 

incredible to think this is where you lived for so long
under these boughs
of darkness
and nothing remains of you
just a few scars on the old trees
and some plaques and a big rock to remind us...

but beneath the developed veneer
i sense the sand move and a depth of peace
and I understand how you found peace of spirit here...
the calm ocean
the dragons of the sky
the colours
and trees....yes...it becomes apparent...
the sunset was sublime.

 

 

so thanks Bribie Island...
and thanks Ian for the HB pencil I found at your old home...
I'm glad you found sanctuary here
once upon a time
how things change so quickly...
and how some remain unchanged...
I whisper to you these things...
I heard you in the twilight song
beneath those trees
and underneath the sounds of the very close cars
and televisions...
I listened and walked on the soft sands....
now I know...
and i am grateful...