Autumn Gold

England

Australia

We have just returned from a tour of Australia's Murray-Darling River area. Bowling along in the tour coach I was constantly reminded of the England of my youth, and the Autumn colours in particular. This was odd, because my old country was damp; my new country, Australia, is, for the most part, dry. Yet the gold-green-shadowy look was very nostalgic.

My illustrations are both enhanced. The English harvest is seen through an artist's eye (and reflects my dream-time.) The Australian drought is photographed at sunset, so the gold is intensified.

 Yet both illustrations capture my mood.

Note: the Murray-Darling area has not had 'good rains' since 1993!

AUTUMN GOLD

In the damp domain where I was born

We always welcomed-in the corn.

It came and gilded everyone,

An echo of the summer sun.

The trees, still dark, though Autumn-tinted,

At a bleak and bitter Winter hinted;

Their shadows, lovely to behold,

Strewed grey-green on the corn's rich gold.

The trees so dark, the fields so bright;

They made a most enchanting sight.

*

Now, in my chosen Promised Land,

The same gold spreads on every hand.

Dry grass recalls the golden sheaves

And these trees will not lose their leaves.

The dryness brings a sense of dread;

'Drought' is a word that's best not said.

Folk take no pleasure from the scene

And yearn for farms awash with green.

Passers-by see suffering cattle,

Weary from their up-hill battle.

This glorious gold brings, with it, pain,

As a nation waits and waits for rain.

*

And yet, and yet, there lingers still

Something of that childhood thrill.

The trees, the shadows and the gold

Recall for me the days of old.

I sorrow, yet, with clarity,

I recall the joys that used to be.

*

The trees so dark, the fields so bright

Still make a most enchanting sight.

*