Wednesday, 21 May 2014

45 years ago today..........


...........I stepped off a Qantas jet on to Australian soil for the very first time...

I was a few weeks short of 19 years old...
full of enthusiasm for this new young country that would now be my home...



I left behind the rolling green hills of my youth...that green and pleasant land..

I left behind pomp and ceremony....


I left behind queen and country...



I left behind village greens and tiny streets, basements and attics, walks in the snow....



I left behind all that I knew and loved.......


I left behind people that I loved.....
I left behind people that had touched my heart...
 and I left behind people that I would miss for the rest of my life...


Oh to be in England
now that April's there,
and whoever wakes in England
sees, some morning, unaware,
that the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf'
round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf.
while the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
in England - now!

And after April, when May follows,
and the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossom'd pear-tree in the hedge
leans to the field and scatters on the clover
blossoms and dewdrops-at the bent spray's edge-
that's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
the first fine careless rapture!
and though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
all will be gay when noontide wakes anew
the buttercups, the little children's dower
-far brighter that this gaudy melon-flower!

Home Thoughts From Abroad
Robert Browning (1812-1889)

I stepped on to the tarmac at Sydney airport and wondered what I had let myself in for?

I had suddenly gone from Browning to Mackellar......

but it turned out that....




I love a sunburnt country
a land of sweeping plains.....


of ragged mountain ranges....


of droughts and flooding rains....


I love her far horizons.....


I love her jewel sea....


her beauty and her terror
the wide brown land for me.....
Dorothea Mackeller


Am I sorry?  

Not often, but we all have some regrets in life and sometimes that green and pleasant land has it's own magical appeal and pull. I miss the rolling green hills, I miss some people a whole lot. When there are fires raging I miss the soft misty air, I miss the wood and copse of the English countryside, I miss the myths & legends, I miss the history......... I miss hearing the lilt of Lancashire and Yorkshire, I miss the ability to walk the lakes and mountains......sigh!!

I don't however miss the long, cold and grey winters, I don't miss the smallness of my birth country, I don't miss the crowded roads, I don't miss living cheek to cheek with only a wall dividing you, I don't  miss the crowded cities and I don't miss the weather...  :o)



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