in the cold cold wind we thread our way from story stone to story stone

the courtship of the black snakes continued into the next day,
they moved closer into something resembling a  celtic knot that quivered and vibrated
for a very long time.
snake passion
watch out, kundalini is on the move
sex is in the air.
I was climbing Goolaga mountain at the time of  these goings on,
walking the sacred path
panting,  stopping often to look out to ocean and lakes, paddock houses and Bermagui in the distance,
identifying plants fondling them, 
listening to the lyrebird run thru its repertoire.
Zoe up ahead not panting
John peeling oranges for those sweet bursts of  energy .
observing the changes post fire post floods.
a few years ago  a hazard reduction burn  by forestry or farmer or national parks ,
(they all love doing it never realising that they are the greater hazard to  us and the planet)
and unbelievably  it  got away.
yes I am indulging in sarcasm 
they get away all the time and they blame lightning .
I am sensitive about the issue of fire, logging and what I see as disrespect of this planet
my home.
but all of us carry something do we not?
anyway the fire escaped and ran from the valley to the mountain threatening my friends homes and the village of Tilba. 
what to do ?
mobilise the forces
get out the high vis
and drop  bombs all over the mountain to stop the fire.
does this sound sane? 
is it?
 no and no again.
I am surrounded by idiots who believe that fire is the way to protect us ,
year after year usually in autumn though often spring I live in a smoke laden atmosphere  as they bomb thousands of hectares of wild forest to stop them being a possible wildfire threat.
year after year the death toll of the wild goes uncounted  unrecorded and forgotten.
back at home Greg spotted  another couple making love 
that’s two pairs of red belly black snake sexing
and then later in pouring rain  they were treated to another performance of the ritual dance of male combat
just outside the kitchen window.
never  before have we seen so much snake activity 
year of the dragon?? 
a big spring?? 
what why now?
these are questions that identify we live within the mystery.
meanwhile in sunshine a few miles away with no sign of rain we have made our way to the teaching place of the mountain.
we have eaten our cheese and chutney sandwiches sitting at the table in the cold cold  wind.
we tie  red wool around our heads as a symbol of respect  and step onto a hidden track, 
we amble  thru the dense scrub and come  out into a more open area made up entirely of  gigantic standing stones and a few trees.
in some configurations  huge tors balance precariously on top of each other
others have shapes resembling the being or ancestor that they are.
all with a teaching,  a lore that tells  the people how to conduct their lives
that gave the people their identity
their  connection to the dreaming of the creator.
I clap us in , a knock on the door to let spirit know we are here 
and we wander around,
touching feeling praying singing the songs, 
honouring the ancestors ,
the journey. 
in the cold cold wind we thread our way from story stone to story stone
as many before us have done, as many after us will do.
John and I share with Zoe other meetings with the mountain, 
walking from our home for several days to be  here
walking from our home to witness  friends marrying
walking off the track and finding a place totally draped in lacey lichen and lit with a golden light,
of filling our water bottles from  high up in the rainforest to make our flower essences.
many stories many journeys 
always a treat ,a transformation
always empowering 
always a pilgrimage
and always just here.
we came home to the latest snake story
and rain that went on for days
soaking our garden and forest and filling our tanks .

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