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MY FIRST DAYS IN EVA VALLEY, AUSTRALIA [2]: DAYS OF GRASS
The Small Stone Cottage Stood On An Overgrown Abandoned Mango Farm And Was Miles From Anywhere.
My first days at Eva Valley, were spent in the grass, big clumps of bright green grass that appeared to grow everywhere, with many different varieties of grass forming layers and understoreys and flowers so tiny, that they were barely visible to the naked eye. But mostly I remained indoors, content just to potter around and organise my stuff, inside the stone cottage, while taking care of Banjo, Pushkin and Princess. It was good to have their company and when the heavy rain wasn't pouring down, in monsoonal bucket loads, we cautiously explored the area, around the buildings and structures, while I took a few photos of my three companions, enjoying their time out of the cottage, in the green grass that grew everywhere. The smell of the earth was fresh, with daily rain and the atmosphere was peaceful, with only two or three cars, driving by on the road, each day and on some days, there were no cars at all.
Pushkin was a 'talker' and his journey into the grass, triggered many loud meows.
Banjo was a nervous and awkward puppy, already showing the first signs of doghood, but on occasion, his eyes would shine, gentle, joyful. It was Banjo's day in the sun.
Princess mainly kept to herself. I hoped that the peace of the place, would heal the bullying, that she had experienced by the other larger kittens, at the Darwin RSPCA.
I was overwhelmed by the overgrown 'backyard'. I didn't know what to do with it.
I had no desire to wander back out onto the paddocks in the wet season heat,
where large clumps of gamba grass, appeared to burst into growth overnight.
There were many varieties of plants and small trees, in the overgrowth and gamba grass. Most of them I did not know and many of them would die, before I knew them.
Banjo, Pushkin and Princess [with myself included], were pleased to retreat from the harsh environment, back onto the coolness of the damp cracked concrete, beneath the awning of the small stone cottage, offering shelter from the midday heat and relief from the itching grasses and the many varieties of flies and whirring wings of insects, zipping by our ears, in sudden changes of direction, like little fighter jets.
At one point, I made a decision to keep Pushkin and Princess up in the house, where there wouldn't be the constant risk, of them trying to get out the door, during the day and especially at night, from my previous experience with Pushkin, at Progress Drive, in Nightcliff, his eyes glinted a wild cat topaz, before he turned feral scratch up the palm tree growling cat, scaling unit lawns in a single leap, in search of small animals, to fulfil his instinct, to hunt and kill. The first thing, that I remember thinking, when I went to carry the cats over to the house, was, but it's so far away from the cottage. I didn't feel like walking there. It was almost too overwhelming to walk there, even though it was only around fifty feet away. Everything on the ex-mango farm was big and unknown. I was used to living in smaller spaces, such as bedsits and single rooms. This place was monstrous. The truth is, that I was barely aware of my environment. I lived inside my mind and sensed things, many things, that were invisible to the eye. I did not feel comfortable with heat that seemed to waver, in patterns, onto my skin, from the thick green gamba grass and the harsh sunlight, that turned the grass so bright, that it hurt my eyes, to look upon it. I was still in a dream and the environment around me, now appeared to be aggressively impinging, upon that dream, or the personal reality, that I had created for myself.
The Property Dynamics, Were Quick To Impinge Upon My Reality, Like A Tide Of Colour, To A Sepia Coastline. |
