As you get closer the trail declines from wheel ruts to track, path to pad paced between grasses, an alignment of sticks, leaves, animal ways then ends — you can’t see it yet.
Push past banksias and wattles, stunted angophoras roots down into cracks forever, potholes full of leaf litter, bone-white logs jagged — this place resists, there’s no reveal, no discovery, each step is pushing against, shoulder through, stumble ahead. You are out of breath and alarm bells are ringing — it’s right here.
Now a platform of sandstone furniture, desks and chairs and conference tables – the undershelf scoured to gravel in every flood down this escarpment. In the glare and the heat and then … it opens to ocean
Below tiny sheepdogs herd tiny sheep over hanky-sized pastures, a toy truck winds up the switchback with a puff of black cotton wool, a hawk hangs and across the valley the torrent falls.
Among the fly storm
a dappled moth sips
from my teaspoon.
Image: The Larapinta Trail, Northern Territory. A haibun for Frank at Dverse where he asks us to take a hike.
And here’s my favourite prog-rock from way back – they were obviously hikers too – (just skip the ads).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNkWac-Nm0A&t=1507s
Peter Frankis writes 
Enjoyed your write Peter.
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That haiku is fantastic. Great hiking with you.
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A pleasure to ride along with your imagination, Peter, into the magic of landscape as it might be. The fashionable rustic furniture is for me. The intro reminds a dream I have, which I suspect has ominous overtones, but here it ends in pastoral delight.
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Thanks Steve, yep I’ve had that dream too (though there’s usually a filing cabinet or a photocopier somewhere amongst the forbidding forest).
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I enjoyed this hike through a land that I have never seen but would very much like to!
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Peter, there’s much to love and admire in this poem but I smiled at the “hanky-sized pastures”. Such a contrast to the rough, edgy untameable features described before that phrase. Nice work.
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Thanks Misky, yes it was exactly like that, pushing through scrub and then whoosh – clear air, the precipice and world revealed.
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I so enjoyed hiking in the outback with you, Peter, especially the names of the plants and that sandstone furniture! What a view, and your haiku was a surprise.
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That is exactly the kind of situation that makes me anxious, nature’s indifference, the isolation, then the wow when the scene opens out, the prize at the end.
Your haiku is wild approaching timidly, so fragile.
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A vivid description of beautiful terrain, and a thoughtful evocation of hiking such landscapes! Well done!
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I really love the way you describe the fear of the trail… of maybe being lost, I could feel the heartbeat… and then, in the end, a relief in the wonderful view… (my only concern at the point is finding the way back)
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I like how you describe the push through the challenges until finally you are there and can look down on what are now just toys. The small bits of magic found, what a nice touch. Yes on Yes.
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I can’t help but think of Rick Wakeman in all his blonde locks and spangled capes stuck in a bramble patch. 😀
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lol
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Nice one!
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Beautiful poem, especially the haiku, and the image of that moth.
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I enjoyed reading this, Peter. The imagery was wonderful, as was the haiku.
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Thank you so much – glad you liked.
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