Day Seven: Mt Shillinglaw to Rumpff Saddle (backwards) – “Looking forwards”

The morning starts with the pre-dawn winds, showing me renewable strength and determination.  I rise before the sun spills over the eastern mountain ranges, washing rays of the new day into the valleys below.  The winds continue, the speed of the low-lying clouds is racy.  After a warm breakfast, it is time for Ruchschau and some German lessons.  I use my brains and not my Braun, and it’s such a guten morgen.  Rumpf sounds like a German name too.Car

Looking forwards, the section of track before the Saddle includes views to both sides of the spur.  An insect tries to conceal its true self and not to show its true colours.  I’m not one for football, but Essendon might get a guernsey with this bug.  Looking forwards to the north, as the track approaches the junction of the Jamieson-Licola road the views are to the east with patches of denuded gums in surprisingly close formations.

I’m still not much for football, but the steely look of a Carlton supporter shows that the power in the draught.  Heavy winds create an orchestral masterpiece replete with rhythmic percussions and arrhythmic repercussions.

I am feeling lucky, knock on wood, it sure beats the hum-drum.  The sounds are quite eerie and they are matched with natural geography, topography and choreography.

It is wildly xylophonic and polyphonic.  The timbre of the timber is so magical that I feel the lumber tones lingering in my lumbar bones.  There are bees buzzing around too, and  I wonder whether a wood bee would be bionic if the winds became cyclonic.

Looking forwards as the track leads north-west uphill to a track junction with the Bicentennial track joining from the south-west,
there are signs of industry.


A rusty wire-rope cable recoils into the bush as I approach, and a burnt-out stump carries a lonely track marker somewhat dubiously.  Nature shows that mushrooms are opportunist, and will venture into the light of day when tired of being kept in the dark and fed on b.s. I reflect that with the right attitude and a good sense of humour, it’s not difficult to be a fun-guy.

Looking forward though, the b.s.will continue to be emitted from alpine cattle or from the debate they generate at least for the near future.  Looking forwards to the west as the track departs the Jamieson-Licola road, fernery shroud a wide track which no longer serves vehicles.

A solitary tree has staked a claim on the centre of the track.  Further on, a long strand of gumtree bark is wound around a branch, producing some kind of swing for local birds. 
Many a municipal park tries to emulate this product of nature for the playtime pursuits of local children.  Looking forwards, nature is a true source for creativity, imagination and innovation.  So we should be looking forwards, to preserving nature for the playtime pursuits of tomorrow’s children.

Looking forwards, this ends an Ah-Ha instalment.  And at the bottom of the dry and grassy rolling hills I discover the elusive Purple Cow.


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