The next day dawns, too early. We were woken by the light, and the heat, already building. Most of all though, by the dratted peacocks sliding, and clacking over the tin roof (a TIN roof?) making their unholy, raucous noise. I can tell you, the noise, does not, in any way, make up for how beautiful they are. What's a beautiful, spread, fan of a tail, in iridescent colours. If, the next morning at dawn, it's replaced by a rude, and noisy, aggressive awaking. Not to me, it's a no contest. I would have got rid of every one of them before the end of the first week. The presence of the peacocks, however, was non negotiable. Like so many other differences we would have to deal with over the months.
We stumbled out of bed, still in out P.J s, night dresses whatever they were, I can't remember. Finding our way outside, and onto the large veranda, something we did not see last night. Having entered the house through the kitchen door. This large deck, is festooned with unfamiliar, climbing flowers. Mainly hibiscus, in vibrant reds, and is directly out from the living area. From there we could see accross lawns, again overgrown, but not as badly as the long burnt grass, at the side of the house. I discovered later, my brother is away, working, a lot. My dad, of course, had his hands full this last three months with looking after himself, and my mum in hospital. He wasn't used to being alone, and I don't suppose it was easy.
My father sat there, like a king, in his castle, proudly surveying his land. Land he would not ever have imagined owning in England. A full twenty five acres, as were most of the blocks of land along this area, of Berry Springs. Of course this belonged primarilly to my brother, but he shared it now. He took great pride pointing out its boundary, just visible in the distance. My mother was sleeping in. She is so relieved you're here, he said. I, in turn, was relieved she was sleeping. It's always the best thing if you're poorly, healing whilst you sleep. Our brief sight of her last night, was worrying, she looked very poorly, pale, and low.
We three, sat on chairs around the large plastic table, of a sturdy design, unfamiliar to us. It had large tubular arms, and we lounged comfortably. It was then, we began to see, and hear the wealth of other birds around the place. There were great flocks of parrots. Wheeling, and screeching overhead, natures painted, in a range of colours. There were large white parrots, with yellow crests, and combs, large black ones, with red decoration, and even more of a smaller type, green, red, multi coloured, parakeets. These are the cheeky, Rainbow parakeets, we were told. It was better than the circus, as they swooped, one colour after another accross to the front, or the side, from treetop to treetop, creating their own magical patterns. Each group, seemingly oblivious of the others. Squabbling, squawking, and tussling for spaces.
Looking for food, said my father. I noticed then, that in the crest of the larger trees, of which there were quite a few around the house, had flowers, in perfect circles. "Yes," the oracle of all things Australian said, "every tree has a centre of flowers". All very brightly coloured, reds, orange, some white." It's these,"(their necter, I assumed) "the birds live on, and fruit. Lots of the trees have small fruits. As well as the mango, and plum trees we try to grow. Not that we have had any fruit to pick yet. If the birds don't get them, the fruit bats do." You have fruit bats?" I asked. Bats that fly at night! I am glad I didn't know that when I was breasting through the long grass in the dark, last night.
There were bats in Norfolk, where I grew up. My grandmother, who I lived with most of the time, always said, "shut the bedroom window, if they get in your hair, it will be nasty!" Telling me all sorts of horror stories about bats,a bd unwary girls. Sometimes, if I, in my usual defiant way, wasn't quick enough, one might get in. Then, it was all hands to the window, with something over your head. It left me with a healthy regard for their swiftness. I certainly had no wish to see any here. As we were to discover, the whole place was stuffed with life we had never seen before. My daughter, who had a fear of all creepy crawlies when we arrived, had a baptisms of fire in Northern Territory. By the time she left, she had found ways to cope, as she must. It was either acclimatise, or go crazy, poor girl.
In the distance, were the usual spindly assortment of trees. Such as we had seen last night, on the journey from the airport. The soil between these, was the most unusual red, a really strong rustly red. The black soil of Norfolk, I was accustomed to seeing, even though it was years since I last lived there. This though, is something else entirely. Black soli, is peat laden, from forest laid down millennia ago. Red soil, I can only assume, is iron, of the sort that stains a bath, under the metal taps. The trees, were mostly grey, and with pale greeny/blue leaves. Far sparser than I am accustomed to, in a sort of eucalyptus green. At least, the foliage is nothing like the types of English oaks, ash, and beech I grew up with, in England. One, or two in particular, larger ones, my father warned us of. "Those are widow makers" he said. "Known for dropping large limbs for no reason, so watch out, they will kill you", he se, the title. Although why it should be always the man walking underneath, I do not know.
As the day progressed, we helped Mother to a comfortable seat on the sofa, she didn't like it outside. We found her breakfast, which she did not eat. Got ourselves organised, putting our luggage, and bedroom to some sort of order. Knowing we were there for some time. We did not know if my Mother would improve, or deteriorate. She was already discharged from hospital, but not recovering as she should. The doctors said, there was no physical reason for it. She, rather emotionally, had said to me, on the phone, "if you want to see me before I die, you better come quick." Hense, our rather impromptus journey to the other side of the world.
We, my daughter, and I, along with my parents, soon got into some sort of a routine. Broken only by my Mothers lack of appetite, or interest in anything. Along with my teenage daughters screams at every new insect, or strange creature. Believe me, there were many. We enjoyed seeing the wallabies come down to the small pond to drink, and the magnificent crested dragon lizard, that was a big as a small cat, and lived in the trees. As well as that, there were flies, cockroaches, spiders (the huntsman, that jumps aggressively at you, as I found out) geckos, green frogs, lizards, ants, and in all sizes. I was always having to rescue her from some hazard. In the end though, as I said, she grew accustomed to most of them. The birds were many, and fearless, cookaburra, ibis, the parrots, as well as assorted small birds, like starlings, butcher birds, and such.
The life there, was something akin to being locked inside a zoo. You were in there with everything. You had to allow for everything, and it's own lifestyle. That's without talking about jelly fish, sharks, and crocodiles.
I know, so far, I have told you all sorts of scary, uncomfortable stuff. What's to like? What's to like, is that it's so amazing, it opens your mind, and stretches your boundaries. So far I have not started ok the shopping centres, the natural springs, the outback, or the rest of Australia.
Well, just study a map some time, the country is vast, it s a big job to say why I like it, and where. Northern Territory was just the start.
Looks like a part three is coming up......
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