Drifting on the Murray

 GOING WITH THE FLOW.

The lazy brown snakes its way through fertile farmlands and desert scapes alike. 

Bringing life to some and causing the slow death of others.

Vineyards and orchards groan under the weight of plush canopies and plump fruit, while once majestic gums stand as stark, bone-white reminders of their former glory.

The setting sun is foreshadowed by cacophonous squawking as sulphur-tinged clouds of white erupt from the trees across the violet and rose daubed skies.

As night descends, birdsong is replaced by the chittering and buzzing of creatures lucky enough to have escaped the twilight feasting.

Nature's calls are soon drowned out by the crackle of flames, clinking bottles, music and laughter. Until the hypnotic thrumming of a generator and the gentle lap, lap lapping waters drumming a lullaby on the hull, beckoning all to rest.

Dawn breaks but the only early risers to be heard are the unseen birds and occasional splash of a silvery tail as it shatters the glassy surface.

The sizzling of the barbecue plate gives rise to breakfast aromas, luring bleary-eyed revellers into the light, ready to be carried along on another carefree day of blissful drifting. 

Remembering houseboat holidays on the Murray.