Girragirra Green Living

Frances – “Tin roof”

We were totally blown away to receive this very beautiful poem from Frances, one of our favourite return visitors to Girragirra. I wonder what you think of it?

When it rains a bit…..

Observations from some returning ‘friends’ of Girragirra

Our visit this time, in early June, coincided with a big ‘east coast low’ weather system.  While wild weather swept down the coast from Queensland to Victoria – with battering winds, wild seas, barrages of rain and intense flooding – the central west of NSW where Girragirra sits enjoyed a day or so of steady gentle rain, with the odd patch of weak, watery sunshine occasionally breaking through. Out here when this happens it can look quite dramatic as the flat landscape and clayey soils can result in what looks like LOTS of water lying around. And at night, with the thrum of the rain on the roof, it can certainly sound quite dramatic! To us townies, used to only a slight murmur on our tiled roof, we were quite convinced that daylight would reveal the house surrounded by water. However, no such drama awaited us. Rather it just made for wet, muddy boots and few bedraggled-looking muddy-faced rosellas and galahs. And a little burst of poetic reflection…..

Tin Roof

This house: it moves; it breathes;

It creaks and groans, moans;

It chatters, hums and sighs;

It is alive!

 

In the baking heat of the long sapping summer;

In the cool of winter fringed with crisp-edged frosts;

In winds and rains; raging tirades or gentle refreshers;

It is alive!

 

This house: tin and timber; glass and concrete;

Fabrics and furnishings; made and remade;

Mostly of the earth; for the earth and for the future;

It is alive!

 

For shelter and comfort – after a long day’s journey;

For restoration and rejuvenation – from all life’s busy-ness;

For inspiration and energy – to return to everyday life;

It is alive!

 

This house: now well-known to us; now like a friend.

First met with wonder and excitement; a bit shy and cautious.

Now much anticipated; to be respected and never taken for granted.

It is alive!

 

It is moody. Breathing cool on hot scorching days; breathing warm on chill brittle days;

It is shimmery in the moonlight; mysterious beneath the deep starry sky;

It is dry in the wet; shady beneath the angry sun;

It is alive!

 

This house: says “Come in and bide your time a while;

Settle and rest; be still and stay; imagine and reflect;

Listen and look out; go out, explore; but you will be drawn back in.”

It is alive!

 

It tells much about its place in the landscape.

There’s a river; there’s a billabong; there’s a floodplain;

There are plants; there are all sorts of animals, insects, fish and people;

It is alive!

 

Oh, and did I say? It is the tin roof

That speaks the most; that is so much more than just white noise;

That whispers, calls and shouts;

It is alive!