I love March in Australia, the crisp autumn mornings that begin with a warm orange glow. It ushers away the cool night air and the smell of the bush begins to grab hold of your already overwhelmed senses. After all, the birds have been awake for a while now, invading your ears with the incredible screeches and squawks that are unmistakably the noises of the great southern land. The bugs are well into their aerial ballet which emits a constant but varying buzz that won’t allow you to sleep anymore even if you wanted to. But why would you, the day has begun without you, it’s time to move. As you step out the sun gives you the first hit of what’s in store for you, its rays punch you fair and square in the eyeballs and then it follows it up with a wake of heat that will stay with you for the rest of the day until it’s had enough of enveloping you with its warmth. It will be a battle today, a battle to think of a place you’d rather be.

 

As I make my way down to check the fire from the night before, the fire that will boil the billy to make the mug of instant coffee which is the final step to my awakening. It’s not something you’d do in January or February, a fire that is, coffee is and will always be a constant. But a fire here at the height of summer could be disastrous, it’s tinder dry, the bush would go up like a fire cracker and could burn for weeks. I stoke the still glowing embers and it doesn’t take much to get it going again, the breakfast ritual begins. Food tastes better cooked on the flames, I don’t know why, it just does. Pretty soon the bacon is overtaking the smell of the eucalypt and the crack of the bush, it smells great.

 

Once that’s all done it’s down to the river for a quick dip, I know the water is not the cleanest but I feel spotless coming out. It’s fresh and it’s natural and the coolness of the water sure gets the blood pumping. It seems about that time every time that it hits you, you’re alone here, there’s no one else around. You can hear campers come and go in the distance, you listen to the muffled sounds of laughter, cars and parents calling for their kids to come when they stray too far from sight. It’s not the place to let the littlies get too far away, it’s dangerous. The river could carry a giant away and often does, the giant red gums are to victims of this mighty river. There’s also the snakes, there’s not many friendly ones around here and then there’s the ever constant risk of just getting lost, once you’re in the bush things can start to look very similar.

 

There’s been no sounds for a couple of days now as the long weekend crowds disappear back to the city. It’s just me here and that’s the way I like it. The crowds won’t be back to bother the river in any great numbers for about 9 months, time enough for a human to form, it spends most of its life on its own and I get the feeling that’s the way it likes it.

 

As the day was spent on a camp chair with an unsuccessful fishing line in the water, the non-events have made me tired. In the city I’d normally hit the hay at around 11pm but here, sometimes I’ll retire at around 8. It’s looking that way tonight as the sun starts to sink so are my eyelids, it definitely going to be an early one.

 

Its bed time now, I nearly fell asleep in the chair. I do the usual night time rituals including brushing teeth, you can’t escape everything. I crawl into bed and surprise myself by staying awake until my head hits the pillow.

Crack, I’m awake. I don’t know what time it is but I feel like I’ve been asleep for days but it’s still not enough. Was that noise in a dream? Christ it seemed real. It could’ve been an animal, a big animal. Theres big reds around here, the Arnie’s of the marsupial world. When they stand up with their chest out they look 8ft tall. There it goes again, I’m torn between getting out of the tent for a look and hiding like a little kid and waiting for the monster to go away. I’d better get up or I’ll never sleep, my hearts going too fast. I grab my torch but don’t turn it on yet and fumble for the zip on the tent. Do I open it quietly or tear it open and hope the noise makes whatever the hell it is go away? You’d think at my age I’d know what to do by now.

 

I go with plan A and open the tent slowly and quietly, the torch is still off but the light of the moon is enough to have a quick look around. Nothing. Who are you kidding? I’m still in the tent with just my head sticking out. I make the decision to get out, I’ll need to relieve myself anyway, a symptom of going to bed too early. As my shoulders find the fresh air CRACK! SHIT! I nearly cleared myself of the afore mentioned symptom. That’s coming from behind the campsite of course, whatever it is has no thought for anyone but itself, it’d be too easy to park itself at my door so I could solve this mystery and go back to sleep. I have to keep going out, I can’t stop now, my brain and my chest are about to explode.

 

I take my first tentative steps silently begging the twigs and branches under my feet to be quiet but they don’t co-operate, they crackle away like an elephant on bubble wrap. I have to keep going now I’m committed, or at least I should be. I now want to go home. Before I know it I’m a good drop punt from the tent, that’s fifty meters in laymen’s terms. I’m hearing rustling but there’s nothing ominous. I’m listening, boy am I listening. It’s hard to hear anything else with the sound of my heart beating, it’s either that or a steam train on a timber trestle bridge. I’m trying to think logically. Surely there’d be no-one else out here? Right? I mean who else would be here? Well I’m here, I found it. My mind is arguing with itself and its driving me nuts. Why would someone else be here? Somebody, I don’t know like a psychopath, a serial killer or just someone who like playing mid games on people. Oh god, the side of my brain that I want to win is getting its arse kicked, big time. I’m now becoming my own worst enemy, CRACK! CRACK CRACK!

I’m frozen, not cold but frozen from fear. Fear of what? Fear of fear, fear of everything that is here right now, including myself. Did I bring my torch? I need to see everything because I can’t take this anymore. Where is it? Shit I’ve dropped it. CRACK I run, I run I run and I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m running from or to. My mind is gone, it’s probably with my torch, I laugh to myself with what breath I seem to have left. I don’t know how long I’ve been out here anymore, the birds are starting to raise their alarm, I’ve been out here all night and I’m lost and still running. CRACK! It wasn’t the noise that was haunting me, it is my head as it smashes into the horizontal limb of a large gum tree, I’m out.

As my eyes open and the sun beats down on me I can feel the blood gushing from the cut on my head. It’s bad, my head throbs all over which seems to help the blood flow, like the river. I wonder where I am, as I turn my head sideways to get my bearings I see the pool that has escaped via the self-inflicted wound. I don’t even know how long I’ve been laying here. I look up, I see the trees, I see the sky and I can’t get up.