Seventh Generation Farmer on The Bank of the River

I was camped by a river out in the far reaches of western NSW for two weeks when I met one of the local farmers. He pulled up a crate, grabbed a tinny from the back of his ute and sat around the fire pit with my partner and I. This poem was crafted after he talked about his life by the river. He grew up in a farming community—seven generations of his family have farmed this land out west.

The Seventh Generation Farmer on the Bank of the River

The white cockatoos and pink galahs scatter raucous among the elder eucalypts. Silver-green leaved gums stand on the sandy banks like gymnasts leaning this way and that and nests of flood litter and large logs are held thirty feet up. In the slow flowing river, two metres across, a large carp and four smaller fish swim and feed in the shallows close to the edge. Their diamond shaped scales sun-licked and autumn gold. Two birds of prey circle on thermal currents in the vast clear sky that sweeps wide over this farming plain.

The young farmer sits near where I am camped on his land and talks about his Dad who died from a heart attack in his forties in the back paddock. His mum died five months later. ‘They said it was cancer. I think it was a broken heart. My footy mates helped me during those hard times. For three years, I just didn’t know what to do.’ The cockatoos retreat upstream near the farm house, which has been locked this last decade; farm machinery and an old tank lament the olden days. The sun drops its gaze behind the western paddock. ‘Sometimes, I can smell a roast dinner on the breeze as I drive past.’

 

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Catherine
Catherine
4 months ago

That’s a beautiful poignant piece of prose Wendy.

Helen Lambert
Helen Lambert
4 months ago

Beautiful visuals Wendy and superbly crafted.

Vicki Heenan Celebrant
Vicki Heenan Celebrant
3 months ago

So beautiful I wish politicians could see it this as farms and farmers will slowly leave their farms and heritage due to political leaders who don’t see the big picture.my parents had to walk off their farm in 1969 due to poor crops and drought. No help. Sorry to make this political but it breaks my heart.

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