Riverside
On the banks of the Gloucestor River, Australia, sits a caravan park. For a couple of weeks I became part of life there. The locals are a mix of residents and regular visitors. A world heritage listed national park is the view from the caravan window. There is surely something about the wild beauty that connects with the soul and gives perspective.
Riverside
The glow of campfire stirs ancient intrigue.
Embers swirl and rise to join the star-filled sky
And fade and fall like aging memories.
Through the smoky aftermath, the sun permeates;
light reveals a riverside Eden.
Day after day it's the same.
And the people that fill this place are charmed by its timeless ease.
Complicit river fords protect its entry,
Keeping revelers at arm's length
Beyond awaits winter's melting calm.
Here we camp, riverside, unburdened.
Christopher Ireland
Embers swirl and rise to join the star-filled sky
And fade and fall like aging memories.
Through the smoky aftermath, the sun permeates;
light reveals a riverside Eden.
Day after day it's the same.
And the people that fill this place are charmed by its timeless ease.
Complicit river fords protect its entry,
Keeping revelers at arm's length
Beyond awaits winter's melting calm.
Here we camp, riverside, unburdened.
Christopher Ireland