Brushtail |
Brushtail
Authors note:
Two incidents separated by fourteen years provided the inspiration for this story. In September 1997 a ferocious hail storm only 100m wide passed through central Victoria and our town from west to east causing a lot of damage to trees, gardens, parked cars and anything else that happened to stand in its way. Plants in our nursery were beaten to a pulp by golf ball sized hail and the hail was so deep on the ground that it didn’t melt for three days after the storm had passed through. Remarkably a similar storm came through our town from north to south in November of the same year.
In 2011 at a local Boneseed pull organised by the Friends of the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve, I came across the amazing site of a dead Brushtail Possum hanging from an old burnt out tree about ten metres from the ground. The poor animal must have lost its claw hold on the tree and caught a front paw in a split in the wood. The sharp angle of the tree trunk had prevented it from regaining its claw hold, so it died where it hung.
Two incidents separated by fourteen years provided the inspiration for this story. In September 1997 a ferocious hail storm only 100m wide passed through central Victoria and our town from west to east causing a lot of damage to trees, gardens, parked cars and anything else that happened to stand in its way. Plants in our nursery were beaten to a pulp by golf ball sized hail and the hail was so deep on the ground that it didn’t melt for three days after the storm had passed through. Remarkably a similar storm came through our town from north to south in November of the same year.
In 2011 at a local Boneseed pull organised by the Friends of the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve, I came across the amazing site of a dead Brushtail Possum hanging from an old burnt out tree about ten metres from the ground. The poor animal must have lost its claw hold on the tree and caught a front paw in a split in the wood. The sharp angle of the tree trunk had prevented it from regaining its claw hold, so it died where it hung.
The blurb
Alexander sets off to explore the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve on what looks like a beautiful day. A long way from home he's caught in one of the worst hail storms in living memory. He takes refuge where he can find it but he nearly freezes to death. He is saved by something very modern and something that's as ancient as the bush itself.
Alexander
He had been exploring the bushland reserve near his home which was something he liked to do as an escape from school work and the demands of his parents. When he left home after breakfast it had been sunny and he had felt excited about what he would discover on his walk, so he had only taken the light clothing he was wearing and his treasured mobile phone. About an hour after he had started following a 'wallaby track', the jet black storm clouds appeared behind him out of nowhere. When the storm broke he scrambled into a burnt out tree hollow to escape the coming deluge.
Alexander strained to look into the total darkness of the hollow by rolling his eyeballs sideways and up and down but it didn’t help because the blackness was so complete. He realised with some amazement that the space he occupied fitted him perfectly. It was as if it had been carved out to his shape, so when he was standing he couldn’t even turn his head sideways.
Those menacing black storm clouds that had appeared so suddenly must by now be right above him and he was having serious doubts about his impulse to climb inside this hollow tree.
“Lightning strikes trees stupid” he said aloud to himself, ”and no one will ever find me in here". "This hollow tree could become my untimely coffin”, he thought with some alarm.
He squatted enough to free his left arm and gingerly pushed it outside,
“Ouch” he said aloud as something cold stuck him hard on the back of his hand. He knew at once it was hail and it sounded like it was coming down in sheets. At that moment he decided he liked his chances much better inside the tree.
Then thwack-boom went a clap of thunder. He knew it must have been close because ears were ringing and the ancient tree trunk had shuddered. "Oh no" he thought as he felt water pouring onto his head and over his right ear. “The tree must have been struck and it’s opened up a crack above me”, but the water stopped as quickly as it started and Alexander thought curiously, “that water was warm” and suddenly realised that he wasn’t the only occupant of the hollow tree.
“What'll I do” he thought as he felt his panic rising. “Should I stay inside this black space with whatever else is living here or make a run for it”.
He carefully bent his knees, allowing his kneecaps to feel along the rough inside surface of the tree and his back to slowly shimmy its way down like an accomplished salsa dancer.
With his face just above the opening he peered outside and couldn’t believe what he saw. It looked like world war three out there or at least how he imagined WW3 would look.
Though it was as black as a moonless night, the wind was howling and the frequent lightening flashes gave him glimpses of the ground littered with collapsed trees and fallen branches. Strangely the frequent flashes of light also revealed what looked like a snow field instead of the leaf littered woodland floor he had been walking along a few minutes before. The ground was covered with golf ball sized hail stones piled shin high against his tree trunk. He knew that he wasn't going anywhere until the storm moved on and some daylight broke through the veil of deep darkness.
Alexander continued to squat and look outside, fascinated by his strobed view of the chaotic and dangerous events unfolding. Now he felt oddly safe and secure inside his tree. It was as if he was in his lounge room at home watching a particularly violent war movie in surround sound. Large hailstones continued to pelt the tree branches and trunks, wearing away their protective bark revealing expanding patches of yellow sappy wood. Branches snapped free by the hail were blown almost horizontally across his field of view. Drifts of shredded leaves, grey and chaotic, reminded him of canon smoke on a medieval battlefield. The intensity of the event and the relief that he felt in his protected hollow were being replaced with another more sinister feeling. Alexander was beginning to feel very cold.
Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of a terrified kangaroo blown by the driving winds bounding away from the storm, muscles visibly flinching as the large hailstones struck its back and flanks. Its usual graceful movements were frenzied and awkward as it attempted to dodge the falling branches. One poor animal was hit by a falling limb but it rolled clear, vainly kicking its huge hind feet in the air as if it was still bounding. Eventually it regained its balance, unsteadily at first, its shadowy figure slowly bobbing from view.
Alexander thought “jees I’m cold” as he shivered and fleetingly thought that this must be what it’s like to be inside a freezer. As he shivered he began to feel a little sleepy and to drift in and out of a dozy lethargy that seemed to be beckoning intoxicatingly to him. It felt like a strange dream at first. The sort of dream that is part of waking and blends with reality. He wasn’t sure where he was or why someone was calling him. “Alexander, you need to get up” he heard his mother’s frustrated voice. He tried to roll over and huddle into the blankets to keep out the chill of the morning but he felt stiff and unable to turn. He was so tired and just wanted to sleep some more if only she would let him.
Alexander strained to look into the total darkness of the hollow by rolling his eyeballs sideways and up and down but it didn’t help because the blackness was so complete. He realised with some amazement that the space he occupied fitted him perfectly. It was as if it had been carved out to his shape, so when he was standing he couldn’t even turn his head sideways.
Those menacing black storm clouds that had appeared so suddenly must by now be right above him and he was having serious doubts about his impulse to climb inside this hollow tree.
“Lightning strikes trees stupid” he said aloud to himself, ”and no one will ever find me in here". "This hollow tree could become my untimely coffin”, he thought with some alarm.
He squatted enough to free his left arm and gingerly pushed it outside,
“Ouch” he said aloud as something cold stuck him hard on the back of his hand. He knew at once it was hail and it sounded like it was coming down in sheets. At that moment he decided he liked his chances much better inside the tree.
Then thwack-boom went a clap of thunder. He knew it must have been close because ears were ringing and the ancient tree trunk had shuddered. "Oh no" he thought as he felt water pouring onto his head and over his right ear. “The tree must have been struck and it’s opened up a crack above me”, but the water stopped as quickly as it started and Alexander thought curiously, “that water was warm” and suddenly realised that he wasn’t the only occupant of the hollow tree.
“What'll I do” he thought as he felt his panic rising. “Should I stay inside this black space with whatever else is living here or make a run for it”.
He carefully bent his knees, allowing his kneecaps to feel along the rough inside surface of the tree and his back to slowly shimmy its way down like an accomplished salsa dancer.
With his face just above the opening he peered outside and couldn’t believe what he saw. It looked like world war three out there or at least how he imagined WW3 would look.
Though it was as black as a moonless night, the wind was howling and the frequent lightening flashes gave him glimpses of the ground littered with collapsed trees and fallen branches. Strangely the frequent flashes of light also revealed what looked like a snow field instead of the leaf littered woodland floor he had been walking along a few minutes before. The ground was covered with golf ball sized hail stones piled shin high against his tree trunk. He knew that he wasn't going anywhere until the storm moved on and some daylight broke through the veil of deep darkness.
Alexander continued to squat and look outside, fascinated by his strobed view of the chaotic and dangerous events unfolding. Now he felt oddly safe and secure inside his tree. It was as if he was in his lounge room at home watching a particularly violent war movie in surround sound. Large hailstones continued to pelt the tree branches and trunks, wearing away their protective bark revealing expanding patches of yellow sappy wood. Branches snapped free by the hail were blown almost horizontally across his field of view. Drifts of shredded leaves, grey and chaotic, reminded him of canon smoke on a medieval battlefield. The intensity of the event and the relief that he felt in his protected hollow were being replaced with another more sinister feeling. Alexander was beginning to feel very cold.
Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of a terrified kangaroo blown by the driving winds bounding away from the storm, muscles visibly flinching as the large hailstones struck its back and flanks. Its usual graceful movements were frenzied and awkward as it attempted to dodge the falling branches. One poor animal was hit by a falling limb but it rolled clear, vainly kicking its huge hind feet in the air as if it was still bounding. Eventually it regained its balance, unsteadily at first, its shadowy figure slowly bobbing from view.
Alexander thought “jees I’m cold” as he shivered and fleetingly thought that this must be what it’s like to be inside a freezer. As he shivered he began to feel a little sleepy and to drift in and out of a dozy lethargy that seemed to be beckoning intoxicatingly to him. It felt like a strange dream at first. The sort of dream that is part of waking and blends with reality. He wasn’t sure where he was or why someone was calling him. “Alexander, you need to get up” he heard his mother’s frustrated voice. He tried to roll over and huddle into the blankets to keep out the chill of the morning but he felt stiff and unable to turn. He was so tired and just wanted to sleep some more if only she would let him.
Maggie
Maggie was sitting beside the big window in the kitchen. The sun was streaming in and warming her back as she paged through a cooking magazine that had a great section on Italian meals. She thought she would surprise her family by cooking up some gnocchi with a rich tomato sauce and was just imagining the delighted looks on their faces when Andy her husband burst into the room.
”What’s your hurry darling” said Maggie with a soporific tone in her voice.
This obviously annoyed Andy because he had a decidedly accusing tone in his voice. “Haven’t you noticed the bad storm coming up? We’ve got to move the sheep and lambs into shelter”
“Storm? Andy it’s a glorious morning” crooned Maggie not wanting to move from her sunny corner.
“Maggie we haven’t got time to debate the weather and if you don’t believe me take a look out the lounge room window to the west. Those black clouds mean trouble and I don’t like the way they’re building. I haven’t seen anything like it before in my thirty years on the farm”.
Andy’s earnest tone was unnerving Maggie and she knew him well enough to know that this was no elaborate joke. She gave him a concerned look as she dropped the magazine on the kitchen table and quickly made her way to the window in the next room.
“My god Andy, what is that”?
She was out the back door pulling on her elastic-sided boots and beside him in the ute in seconds as they accelerated out the gate and down to the lambing paddock.
Toby the kelpie was on the back of the ute and looking excitedly past the ute's cabin balancing on the flat tray like an experienced surfer riding a big wave.
“We’ll try and move them into the Sugar Gum plantation” Andy thought aloud.
“They won’t want to move” said Maggie with the compassion of a mother.
“By god they’ll have to move” said Andy as if he was issuing a prayer of hope.
“Andy, how much time do we have”? said Maggie knowing in her heart that it wasn’t much.
Andy could hear Maggie’s voice and her question registered somewhere subliminally, but he was too deep in his personal misery as he realised that the wave of disaster had already began sweeping over them and nothing could be done to save his sheep.
Day turned into night as the first giant hail stone hit the bonnet of the ute with a deafening clang like a muted cathedral bell. Andy instinctively put on the brakes and Toby howled, ducking under the ute as the sky opened and hail as big as golf balls poured out of the deathly blackness above them. Andy turned on the head lights but this only lit up a few metres ahead of them. They tried shouting to each other but the clanging noise surrounding them was so extreme that they just huddled close and looked out over the bonnet of the ute in disbelief at the cascading whiteness.
Maggie was sitting beside the big window in the kitchen. The sun was streaming in and warming her back as she paged through a cooking magazine that had a great section on Italian meals. She thought she would surprise her family by cooking up some gnocchi with a rich tomato sauce and was just imagining the delighted looks on their faces when Andy her husband burst into the room.
”What’s your hurry darling” said Maggie with a soporific tone in her voice.
This obviously annoyed Andy because he had a decidedly accusing tone in his voice. “Haven’t you noticed the bad storm coming up? We’ve got to move the sheep and lambs into shelter”
“Storm? Andy it’s a glorious morning” crooned Maggie not wanting to move from her sunny corner.
“Maggie we haven’t got time to debate the weather and if you don’t believe me take a look out the lounge room window to the west. Those black clouds mean trouble and I don’t like the way they’re building. I haven’t seen anything like it before in my thirty years on the farm”.
Andy’s earnest tone was unnerving Maggie and she knew him well enough to know that this was no elaborate joke. She gave him a concerned look as she dropped the magazine on the kitchen table and quickly made her way to the window in the next room.
“My god Andy, what is that”?
She was out the back door pulling on her elastic-sided boots and beside him in the ute in seconds as they accelerated out the gate and down to the lambing paddock.
Toby the kelpie was on the back of the ute and looking excitedly past the ute's cabin balancing on the flat tray like an experienced surfer riding a big wave.
“We’ll try and move them into the Sugar Gum plantation” Andy thought aloud.
“They won’t want to move” said Maggie with the compassion of a mother.
“By god they’ll have to move” said Andy as if he was issuing a prayer of hope.
“Andy, how much time do we have”? said Maggie knowing in her heart that it wasn’t much.
Andy could hear Maggie’s voice and her question registered somewhere subliminally, but he was too deep in his personal misery as he realised that the wave of disaster had already began sweeping over them and nothing could be done to save his sheep.
Day turned into night as the first giant hail stone hit the bonnet of the ute with a deafening clang like a muted cathedral bell. Andy instinctively put on the brakes and Toby howled, ducking under the ute as the sky opened and hail as big as golf balls poured out of the deathly blackness above them. Andy turned on the head lights but this only lit up a few metres ahead of them. They tried shouting to each other but the clanging noise surrounding them was so extreme that they just huddled close and looked out over the bonnet of the ute in disbelief at the cascading whiteness.
Andy
Andy didn’t know how long the hail had lasted. He had felt some hope when he had left the house and having Maggie sitting beside him always gave him courage. When he had seen the storm clouds come out of the western sky on such a perfect morning it was like his imaginings of a biblical horror sent by god to punish mankind. But he wasn’t a religious man and didn’t feel the need to believe in the gods of religion. He believed in the god of hard honest work that had always given him success and confidence in the future. But this storm and what it promised was going to shake his self belief and he knew it.
Andy looked down at Maggie’s face. When they cuddled intimately and he looked at her, he was always amazed by her beauty and the innocence in her cupids face. She was a woman who had travelled the world yet she still looked so youthful and calm after they made love. He was looking at her now, but her face was contorted with fear and he hated the helpless and useless feeling that it stirred in him. He prided himself on being able to provided for and protect his wife and family, but at this moment he felt as if he had lost everything that he valued about himself and his self esteem was in tatters. Why hadn’t he planned for such an event? Why hadn’t he acted faster? Why why why...
The incessant clanging had passed as he was wallowing in his self doubt and was now replaced by a ringing in his head. It took him some minutes to realise that the blackness had began to lift. He had been looking at the fear in Maggies face through the dim and eerie light of the headlights reflected off the falling sheets of hail. But as quickly as it started, the storm was passed and was now giving way to bright sunlight and extreme glare.
Andy felt numbed by his self doubt and the cold that was beginning to work its way into his bones. It was a glance at Maggie’s frightened face that shook him out of his lethargy. She was curled up in his arms like a dependent child and seeing her made him want to be strong, so he faked it as best he could, ‘Maggie, we’ve got to get back to the house and ....” but he didn’t know what. He did know he had to do something and driving over a paddock strewn with golf balls half a metre thick wasn’t an option.
Andy forced the ute door open having to push back the hail that had built up against it and stepped out onto a pure white landscape which crunched menacingly under his feet. He was torn by an initial sense of awe as he looked at the beauty surrounding him. The child in him wanted to shout out with sheer pleasure, but the man in him wanted to cry with despair. Maggie was now beside him and for a moment the child won and he felt a childlike joy that he had long forgotten and he hugged her as together they tried to make sense of what they were seeing. Their familiar green paddock had been transformed into a winter wonderland that would be the envy of any alpine ski resort.
His head felt strange, though the ringing in his ears had stopped, as the whiteness in front of him seemed to be moving. He leant on Maggie for support for a moment and shook his head. He realised that it was not his head but the ground that was moving. The hail covered sheep in the paddock were struggling to regain their feet and they moved in unison. They had had the sense to squat and huddle in groups, their heads protected by the ample woollen fleeces of the sheep around them. Even the lambs seemed to be starting to frolic in the bright sunlight having been protected by the larger bodies of their mothers from the impact of the hail.
Andy’s deep sense of despair, which had swallowed him whole when the storm hit and threatened to spit him out in broken pieces as it intensified, was now fading with each new movement on the paddock before him. As the sheep nonchalantly shook the hail from their fleeces and called their lambs in for a drink of milk, his self belief and hope surged with a deep feeling of gratitude and respect for his woolly charges. The look on Maggies face told him that they were sharing this moment of simple pleasure, but that look was fleeting for them both as she uttered one word in a cry that was full of a mothers deepest fears, ‘Alexander!’
Andy didn’t know how long the hail had lasted. He had felt some hope when he had left the house and having Maggie sitting beside him always gave him courage. When he had seen the storm clouds come out of the western sky on such a perfect morning it was like his imaginings of a biblical horror sent by god to punish mankind. But he wasn’t a religious man and didn’t feel the need to believe in the gods of religion. He believed in the god of hard honest work that had always given him success and confidence in the future. But this storm and what it promised was going to shake his self belief and he knew it.
Andy looked down at Maggie’s face. When they cuddled intimately and he looked at her, he was always amazed by her beauty and the innocence in her cupids face. She was a woman who had travelled the world yet she still looked so youthful and calm after they made love. He was looking at her now, but her face was contorted with fear and he hated the helpless and useless feeling that it stirred in him. He prided himself on being able to provided for and protect his wife and family, but at this moment he felt as if he had lost everything that he valued about himself and his self esteem was in tatters. Why hadn’t he planned for such an event? Why hadn’t he acted faster? Why why why...
The incessant clanging had passed as he was wallowing in his self doubt and was now replaced by a ringing in his head. It took him some minutes to realise that the blackness had began to lift. He had been looking at the fear in Maggies face through the dim and eerie light of the headlights reflected off the falling sheets of hail. But as quickly as it started, the storm was passed and was now giving way to bright sunlight and extreme glare.
Andy felt numbed by his self doubt and the cold that was beginning to work its way into his bones. It was a glance at Maggie’s frightened face that shook him out of his lethargy. She was curled up in his arms like a dependent child and seeing her made him want to be strong, so he faked it as best he could, ‘Maggie, we’ve got to get back to the house and ....” but he didn’t know what. He did know he had to do something and driving over a paddock strewn with golf balls half a metre thick wasn’t an option.
Andy forced the ute door open having to push back the hail that had built up against it and stepped out onto a pure white landscape which crunched menacingly under his feet. He was torn by an initial sense of awe as he looked at the beauty surrounding him. The child in him wanted to shout out with sheer pleasure, but the man in him wanted to cry with despair. Maggie was now beside him and for a moment the child won and he felt a childlike joy that he had long forgotten and he hugged her as together they tried to make sense of what they were seeing. Their familiar green paddock had been transformed into a winter wonderland that would be the envy of any alpine ski resort.
His head felt strange, though the ringing in his ears had stopped, as the whiteness in front of him seemed to be moving. He leant on Maggie for support for a moment and shook his head. He realised that it was not his head but the ground that was moving. The hail covered sheep in the paddock were struggling to regain their feet and they moved in unison. They had had the sense to squat and huddle in groups, their heads protected by the ample woollen fleeces of the sheep around them. Even the lambs seemed to be starting to frolic in the bright sunlight having been protected by the larger bodies of their mothers from the impact of the hail.
Andy’s deep sense of despair, which had swallowed him whole when the storm hit and threatened to spit him out in broken pieces as it intensified, was now fading with each new movement on the paddock before him. As the sheep nonchalantly shook the hail from their fleeces and called their lambs in for a drink of milk, his self belief and hope surged with a deep feeling of gratitude and respect for his woolly charges. The look on Maggies face told him that they were sharing this moment of simple pleasure, but that look was fleeting for them both as she uttered one word in a cry that was full of a mothers deepest fears, ‘Alexander!’
Toby
Toby hated storms and this one was his worst nightmare. Not only was there thunder and lightning which he hated, but there were stones falling from the sky. He knew they were stones because he liked to fetch stones when Alexander took him for walks. He dived under the ute when the first stone hit him, feeling quite confused. After all he had been a good dog and was just ready to round up the sheep, which was his favourite job, when someone unseen had thrown a big stone at him and it hurt enough to make him yelp, which was something he never did on principle. Yelping was for pups and he felt very grown up now that he was two. Even though he was a grown up dog he felt so frightened by the clanging and banging and flashing around him. At least he had escaped the falling stones.
Toby was relieved when the noise stopped. He sniffed the air but he couldn’t smell anything except cold oily air. He couldn’t get out from under the ute because he was surrounded by cold white stones, so he started to dig and digging made him feel less afraid because it felt good to be doing something familiar. It took him no time at all to make a hole big enough to squeeze out into the bright sunlight. Toby felt so relieved that he ran around and around the ute as fast as he could run, his hind legs propelling hails stones into the air in his wake. He heard some familiar laughter which made him weave and canter with his tail streaming behind, his head forward and his ears mischievously back.
Then he heard a word that he knew as well as his own, ‘Alexander’, but the tone of its utterance made him stop dead in his tracks, his ears alert, his tail stretched out behind, his eyes looking at Maggie. Toby lifted his head and started sniffing the cold air. He could smell the fear on the two people standing by the ute and it was much more pungent than the familiar smell of sheep. He heard Maggie cry out ‘Alexander’ again and Toby was off, circling around in ever expanding circles sniffing the air with his sensitive black nose. He didn’t know what he smelt that was different but it was something to follow, so he was off running hard toward the Inverleigh bush. ‘Toby’
he heard the commanding male voice behind him, but he had pressing business of his own he knew that for certain so he kept running.
Toby hated storms and this one was his worst nightmare. Not only was there thunder and lightning which he hated, but there were stones falling from the sky. He knew they were stones because he liked to fetch stones when Alexander took him for walks. He dived under the ute when the first stone hit him, feeling quite confused. After all he had been a good dog and was just ready to round up the sheep, which was his favourite job, when someone unseen had thrown a big stone at him and it hurt enough to make him yelp, which was something he never did on principle. Yelping was for pups and he felt very grown up now that he was two. Even though he was a grown up dog he felt so frightened by the clanging and banging and flashing around him. At least he had escaped the falling stones.
Toby was relieved when the noise stopped. He sniffed the air but he couldn’t smell anything except cold oily air. He couldn’t get out from under the ute because he was surrounded by cold white stones, so he started to dig and digging made him feel less afraid because it felt good to be doing something familiar. It took him no time at all to make a hole big enough to squeeze out into the bright sunlight. Toby felt so relieved that he ran around and around the ute as fast as he could run, his hind legs propelling hails stones into the air in his wake. He heard some familiar laughter which made him weave and canter with his tail streaming behind, his head forward and his ears mischievously back.
Then he heard a word that he knew as well as his own, ‘Alexander’, but the tone of its utterance made him stop dead in his tracks, his ears alert, his tail stretched out behind, his eyes looking at Maggie. Toby lifted his head and started sniffing the cold air. He could smell the fear on the two people standing by the ute and it was much more pungent than the familiar smell of sheep. He heard Maggie cry out ‘Alexander’ again and Toby was off, circling around in ever expanding circles sniffing the air with his sensitive black nose. He didn’t know what he smelt that was different but it was something to follow, so he was off running hard toward the Inverleigh bush. ‘Toby’
he heard the commanding male voice behind him, but he had pressing business of his own he knew that for certain so he kept running.
Alexander
Alexander was running along the warm sandy beach at Lorne with Toby, but when he ran through the water splashing in Toby’s wake, the water was freezing which was strange and when he ran up the shore onto the loose sun bathed sand it was toe curling cold as well. The sand was so cold that his feet ached. To his horror when he looked down at his bare feet in the sand they were covered with a glistening film of ice that seemed to be spreading over his ankles and up his legs as if it wanted to consume him. Alexander screamed and woke in his dark refuge.
Where am I he thought? ‘Mum’ he whined, but there was only a strange quietness around him. Slowly he began to piece together the fragments of memory that his addled mind could recall. ‘The storm’ he thought, ‘the huge hailstones, the frightened kangaroos, the driving wind, the deep unending blackness, his frozen feet and legs. He remembered that he had taken refuge in a burnt out hollow tree and realised that he had fallen asleep in a crouching position. Reaching down he could feel golf ball sized hail that had spilled into his tree and were now covering his feet and ankles and blocking his exit. He tried to lift his feet free but his legs stubbornly refused to move. He tried to stand but he was as rigid as a crouching bronze statue and just as cold. He felt a wave of fear and helplessness and started banging his knees in frustration but they were so cold that he couldn’t even feel the contact of his fists, then he heard it, loud and piercing like the trumpet of angels.
Alexander was running along the warm sandy beach at Lorne with Toby, but when he ran through the water splashing in Toby’s wake, the water was freezing which was strange and when he ran up the shore onto the loose sun bathed sand it was toe curling cold as well. The sand was so cold that his feet ached. To his horror when he looked down at his bare feet in the sand they were covered with a glistening film of ice that seemed to be spreading over his ankles and up his legs as if it wanted to consume him. Alexander screamed and woke in his dark refuge.
Where am I he thought? ‘Mum’ he whined, but there was only a strange quietness around him. Slowly he began to piece together the fragments of memory that his addled mind could recall. ‘The storm’ he thought, ‘the huge hailstones, the frightened kangaroos, the driving wind, the deep unending blackness, his frozen feet and legs. He remembered that he had taken refuge in a burnt out hollow tree and realised that he had fallen asleep in a crouching position. Reaching down he could feel golf ball sized hail that had spilled into his tree and were now covering his feet and ankles and blocking his exit. He tried to lift his feet free but his legs stubbornly refused to move. He tried to stand but he was as rigid as a crouching bronze statue and just as cold. He felt a wave of fear and helplessness and started banging his knees in frustration but they were so cold that he couldn’t even feel the contact of his fists, then he heard it, loud and piercing like the trumpet of angels.
Maggie
Maggie watched Toby loping toward the bush and thought in frustration ‘that stupid dog’ and started the daunting prospect of walking across the glary white paddock toward the house. It was so strange because she had lived here all her married life but hail strewn paddock looked unfamiliar place and now with fears for Alexander on her mind, it felt alien.
It was as if she had been spirited away and planted in a strange and distant snow field. She wasn’t even sure if she was going in the right direction, but she was following Andy’s footprints in the hail and she had the sun on her back, so she kept walking. Keeping up with Andy was difficult and she yelled out ‘Andy help me please’ but like a man possessed he had strode well ahead and was scaling the wire fence that skirted the paddock. She stood knee deep in the freezing whiteness, her leather boots and denim pants were soaked and cold and she could feel her energy draining fast, ‘Oh god’ she thought, ‘Alexander’ and kept trudging doggedly toward the house. What she would do when she got there she had no idea but at least she was moving forward.
It was only a matter of half an hour but it felt like hours by the time she trudged the last few steps to the back door past her beautiful native garden which was now stripped bare and beaten to a pulp by the barrage of hail stones. Maggie walked past the garden hardly even looking, now resigned to the prospect of disappointment but with much greater fears crowding in on her mind. She threw off her boots and stripped off her heavy cold jeans as she made her way to the bathroom to towel herself down. He legs were so cold that they lacked any feeling and she hoped for some inspiration as she rubbed life back to her frozen limbs. She would be of little use in a crisis unless she spent a few precious minutes tending to her own needs.
Now dry and with a change of pants she was walking and calling, hoping for a reply from a familiar young male voice. She imagined he would come out of his room looking a bit sleepy and saying ‘Mum I’m here, no need to shout’, but the house was silent in reply to her earnest calls. Not even Andy was inside, so where was he? He couldn’t be far because there was no way he could drive anywhere over half a metre of hail covered gravel tracks. She went outside calling, a terrible clawing fear filling her chest cavity. She felt so alone and she didn’t want to be alone, she wanted her men.
Maggie watched Toby loping toward the bush and thought in frustration ‘that stupid dog’ and started the daunting prospect of walking across the glary white paddock toward the house. It was so strange because she had lived here all her married life but hail strewn paddock looked unfamiliar place and now with fears for Alexander on her mind, it felt alien.
It was as if she had been spirited away and planted in a strange and distant snow field. She wasn’t even sure if she was going in the right direction, but she was following Andy’s footprints in the hail and she had the sun on her back, so she kept walking. Keeping up with Andy was difficult and she yelled out ‘Andy help me please’ but like a man possessed he had strode well ahead and was scaling the wire fence that skirted the paddock. She stood knee deep in the freezing whiteness, her leather boots and denim pants were soaked and cold and she could feel her energy draining fast, ‘Oh god’ she thought, ‘Alexander’ and kept trudging doggedly toward the house. What she would do when she got there she had no idea but at least she was moving forward.
It was only a matter of half an hour but it felt like hours by the time she trudged the last few steps to the back door past her beautiful native garden which was now stripped bare and beaten to a pulp by the barrage of hail stones. Maggie walked past the garden hardly even looking, now resigned to the prospect of disappointment but with much greater fears crowding in on her mind. She threw off her boots and stripped off her heavy cold jeans as she made her way to the bathroom to towel herself down. He legs were so cold that they lacked any feeling and she hoped for some inspiration as she rubbed life back to her frozen limbs. She would be of little use in a crisis unless she spent a few precious minutes tending to her own needs.
Now dry and with a change of pants she was walking and calling, hoping for a reply from a familiar young male voice. She imagined he would come out of his room looking a bit sleepy and saying ‘Mum I’m here, no need to shout’, but the house was silent in reply to her earnest calls. Not even Andy was inside, so where was he? He couldn’t be far because there was no way he could drive anywhere over half a metre of hail covered gravel tracks. She went outside calling, a terrible clawing fear filling her chest cavity. She felt so alone and she didn’t want to be alone, she wanted her men.
Andy
Andy had mixed emotions as he started walking toward the house. If Toby was on to something important he had to keep up with him for as long as he could but there was no way he could pace with a Kelpie in these heavy conditions. The dam dog just seemed to hover over the thick ice and he had to trudge every step sinking up to his knees. He glanced back at Maggie and she was following him but she wasn’t keeping up. He knew she would battle on as she always did, so he pressed on hoping to see enough of Toby’s black haunches to give him a clue to where he should head once he cleared his property and reached the bush. He knew Alexander was out there somewhere because he saw him head off about an hour before the storm hit, and at this moment Toby was his only hope.
Andy was now walking under the Manna Gums that marked the edge of the Inverleigh Bush and he was shocked to see the havoc that the storm had caused. The bark on the west side of the big trees had been stripped away revealing glistening yellow sappy wood beneath. It gave the magnificent trees a humbled appearance as if they were a proud community of people stripped bare and left naked for all to ogle. He moved on stepping over fallen limbs and walking around fallen trees. He had no idea of direction but he could see Toby’s paw prints in the gravel and he could tell that the dog had purpose and was keeping to the one direction.
He had been walking for an hour or more when he thought he could hear barking in the distance. He was pretty sure it was Toby and it sounded like it was his frustrated bark. Toby’s bark when he had a possum bailed up a tree and he couldn’t reach it no matter how high he jumped. The possum usually just stared back at him, motionless and relaxed which frustrated Toby even more. Andy could see him in the distance now and Toby was barking at something on an old tree trunk, but what, he couldn’t tell. Andy whistled and Toby looked back momentarily and then looked up at the tree as if to say ‘what kept you boss, come and help me’.
Andy couldn’t believe his eyes as the image of the tree become clearer. There hanging from the lip of a hollow in the tree stump was a Brushtail Possum. It must have been looking for shelter during the storm and got a paw caught and there it hung lifeless and frozen. ‘Poor animal’ thought Andy and at that moment realised that his hope that Toby would lead him to Alexander was in vein. The stupid dog must have got a whiff of possum but he couldn’t help for at that moment be amazed at his dog’s incredible sense of smell.
Andy sat down with his back to the old tree and put his head in his hands. A wave of helplessness spread over his body not for the first time on this day. Alexander was out here somewhere but where and if he walked back to the house and organised a search party it could takes hours before people to walk hear since all the roads were cut, and how could they search the whole 1052ha reserve? It was an impossible task. He knew that was his only hope of finding his precious son so he wearily lifted himself to his feet and turned to walk back in the direction he had come as he grabbed Toby by the collar. He took two steps and stopped, the breath momentarily being sucked from his lungs by what he heard.
Andy had mixed emotions as he started walking toward the house. If Toby was on to something important he had to keep up with him for as long as he could but there was no way he could pace with a Kelpie in these heavy conditions. The dam dog just seemed to hover over the thick ice and he had to trudge every step sinking up to his knees. He glanced back at Maggie and she was following him but she wasn’t keeping up. He knew she would battle on as she always did, so he pressed on hoping to see enough of Toby’s black haunches to give him a clue to where he should head once he cleared his property and reached the bush. He knew Alexander was out there somewhere because he saw him head off about an hour before the storm hit, and at this moment Toby was his only hope.
Andy was now walking under the Manna Gums that marked the edge of the Inverleigh Bush and he was shocked to see the havoc that the storm had caused. The bark on the west side of the big trees had been stripped away revealing glistening yellow sappy wood beneath. It gave the magnificent trees a humbled appearance as if they were a proud community of people stripped bare and left naked for all to ogle. He moved on stepping over fallen limbs and walking around fallen trees. He had no idea of direction but he could see Toby’s paw prints in the gravel and he could tell that the dog had purpose and was keeping to the one direction.
He had been walking for an hour or more when he thought he could hear barking in the distance. He was pretty sure it was Toby and it sounded like it was his frustrated bark. Toby’s bark when he had a possum bailed up a tree and he couldn’t reach it no matter how high he jumped. The possum usually just stared back at him, motionless and relaxed which frustrated Toby even more. Andy could see him in the distance now and Toby was barking at something on an old tree trunk, but what, he couldn’t tell. Andy whistled and Toby looked back momentarily and then looked up at the tree as if to say ‘what kept you boss, come and help me’.
Andy couldn’t believe his eyes as the image of the tree become clearer. There hanging from the lip of a hollow in the tree stump was a Brushtail Possum. It must have been looking for shelter during the storm and got a paw caught and there it hung lifeless and frozen. ‘Poor animal’ thought Andy and at that moment realised that his hope that Toby would lead him to Alexander was in vein. The stupid dog must have got a whiff of possum but he couldn’t help for at that moment be amazed at his dog’s incredible sense of smell.
Andy sat down with his back to the old tree and put his head in his hands. A wave of helplessness spread over his body not for the first time on this day. Alexander was out here somewhere but where and if he walked back to the house and organised a search party it could takes hours before people to walk hear since all the roads were cut, and how could they search the whole 1052ha reserve? It was an impossible task. He knew that was his only hope of finding his precious son so he wearily lifted himself to his feet and turned to walk back in the direction he had come as he grabbed Toby by the collar. He took two steps and stopped, the breath momentarily being sucked from his lungs by what he heard.
Maggie
Maggie was sitting on Alexander’s bed fighting back her deepest and darkest fears. She felt that there must be something she could do. She knew that her negative thoughts were her worst enemy at any time particularly now, so she brought to her mind a picture of Alexander and tried to relax enough to allow her intuition to emerge though the panic and muddle of thoughts. She could see Alexander standing tall and slender and he was smiling. Seeing that gave her hope and courage so she kept that image there a little longer. She was recalling his birthday and she was watching him as he examined something that he held in his hand. She couldn’t quite see it but with a rush of hope she remembered how excited he was with his present. Something he hadn’t expected but it was something Maggie thought that he needed.
Maggies started searching in the top drawer of her writing desk for a small book where she recorded important phone numbers and there it was, Alexander’s phone number. She grabbed it and ran to the phone, but the land-line was dead. ‘My God’ she thought where did Andy keep his mobile phone and with a sinking heart she remembered it sitting on the dash board of the ute that they had abandoned in the sheep paddock.
Maggie felt defeated. If Alexander did have his phone he probably wouldn’t have it turned on and he may not have taken it on his walk anyway. Should she spend ten minutes searching his room or should she live in hope and start the exhausting trudge back to the ute. She would have a quick look for his phone and then set off. Maggie looked in all the likely places and her hope grew as her search proved fruitless. As she was leaving his room she did notice something in the corner that gave her another idea.
Alexander would have to forgive her for what she was about to do. She reached for the old hand saw and began sawing the handles off one new and one old tennis racket. These were going to be her snow shoes and aside from feeling a little guilty, she felt pretty pleased with her inventiveness. She tied the shortened tennis rackets to her leather boots with some blue bailing twine making sure that they would hold firm. It wasn’t the first time that she felt glad that she had been a Girl Guide. It took a few steps to get used to her new snow shoes but at least she wasn’t sinking up to her knees.
Maggie felt like ‘Scott of the Antarctic’ as she high stepped across the icy field toward the shining blue island in the middle. Her snow shoes were working a treat and she made the ute in no time feeling exhilarated and optimistic. She reached in for the mobile phone and picked it up with cold and trembling fingers. As she pressed the keys and Alexanders number appeared one number at a time on the screen she felt so excited that she dropped the phone onto the ice and it slid under the ute out of site. ‘Fuck’ she said and instinctively looked around ready to apologise. Then when she realised her folly she repeated the word three times and it seemed to help calm her a little. She lay down on her belly and reached under the ute and felt about in the darkness wondering if the phone may have had some sinister motive of its own and was evading her fingers.
At last she felt something familiar in the ice and closed her hand around it. She withdrew the phone, hurriedly dried it on her under shirt and began the dialling process once again. This time when she put all the numbers in and pressed the green button she could hear the bleat of the regular and reassuring call tone.
Maggie was sitting on Alexander’s bed fighting back her deepest and darkest fears. She felt that there must be something she could do. She knew that her negative thoughts were her worst enemy at any time particularly now, so she brought to her mind a picture of Alexander and tried to relax enough to allow her intuition to emerge though the panic and muddle of thoughts. She could see Alexander standing tall and slender and he was smiling. Seeing that gave her hope and courage so she kept that image there a little longer. She was recalling his birthday and she was watching him as he examined something that he held in his hand. She couldn’t quite see it but with a rush of hope she remembered how excited he was with his present. Something he hadn’t expected but it was something Maggie thought that he needed.
Maggies started searching in the top drawer of her writing desk for a small book where she recorded important phone numbers and there it was, Alexander’s phone number. She grabbed it and ran to the phone, but the land-line was dead. ‘My God’ she thought where did Andy keep his mobile phone and with a sinking heart she remembered it sitting on the dash board of the ute that they had abandoned in the sheep paddock.
Maggie felt defeated. If Alexander did have his phone he probably wouldn’t have it turned on and he may not have taken it on his walk anyway. Should she spend ten minutes searching his room or should she live in hope and start the exhausting trudge back to the ute. She would have a quick look for his phone and then set off. Maggie looked in all the likely places and her hope grew as her search proved fruitless. As she was leaving his room she did notice something in the corner that gave her another idea.
Alexander would have to forgive her for what she was about to do. She reached for the old hand saw and began sawing the handles off one new and one old tennis racket. These were going to be her snow shoes and aside from feeling a little guilty, she felt pretty pleased with her inventiveness. She tied the shortened tennis rackets to her leather boots with some blue bailing twine making sure that they would hold firm. It wasn’t the first time that she felt glad that she had been a Girl Guide. It took a few steps to get used to her new snow shoes but at least she wasn’t sinking up to her knees.
Maggie felt like ‘Scott of the Antarctic’ as she high stepped across the icy field toward the shining blue island in the middle. Her snow shoes were working a treat and she made the ute in no time feeling exhilarated and optimistic. She reached in for the mobile phone and picked it up with cold and trembling fingers. As she pressed the keys and Alexanders number appeared one number at a time on the screen she felt so excited that she dropped the phone onto the ice and it slid under the ute out of site. ‘Fuck’ she said and instinctively looked around ready to apologise. Then when she realised her folly she repeated the word three times and it seemed to help calm her a little. She lay down on her belly and reached under the ute and felt about in the darkness wondering if the phone may have had some sinister motive of its own and was evading her fingers.
At last she felt something familiar in the ice and closed her hand around it. She withdrew the phone, hurriedly dried it on her under shirt and began the dialling process once again. This time when she put all the numbers in and pressed the green button she could hear the bleat of the regular and reassuring call tone.
Alexander was beginning to drift into a doze after his attempts to straighten his frozen legs had failed dismally. He would do something to free his legs soon but first he needed to sleep a little. All the effort of thinking and trying to move his legs had sapped what little energy he had so he allowed himself a moment to recover. He could feel that familiar sinking into glorious sleep feeling when ‘ring ring ‘ his alarm clock went off and it was time to get up to go to school. ‘No’ he thought clumsily ‘that’s not my alarm clock but what is it’? It was a sound much less familiar and it sounded like trumpets or something. It was just too difficult to figure out. Strangely, though the lower part of him felt cold and numb, his chest and arms felt so cosy and warm he just wanted to curl up and sleep.
Andy stood stock still trying to decide if he had heard something or not. It sounded like trumpets or was it a mobile phone ringing. Strangely it seemed to be coming from the dead possum hanging from the old dead tree. He released Toby and turned back to the tree listening and looking as he walked. ‘What would a mobile phone be doing ringing out here and why is it coming form that dead Brushtail Possum’? he mused. As soon as the ringing started it had stopped so Andy shook his head feeling he had been mistaken and started walking away from the tree.
Toby was barking and digging as if he had a rabbit down a burrow. ‘Get out of it’, come away’ said Andy with the voice of authority that mustn’t be denied. Toby looked up and then turned back to his digging. ‘Toby, come away’ said Andy with more intensity and lifting the decibels to a deafening level. Toby faltered a moment and then went back to his digging and now no cursing or yelling could divert him. ‘Dam dog’ thought Andy, ‘now is not the time to dig out a rabbit’. He walked over and grabbed the dog’s collar dragging the struggling creature toward the path back to the house, when the ringing he had heard earlier started up again, but this time it was coming from Toby’s rabbit hole.
Andy now on knees was digging frantically at the piled up hail with his hands. It was like digging a hole in razer sharp gravel and the snow white hail was turning dark red around the digger’s hands. But Andy felt no pain, his hands worked like steel trowels, hard and unyielding and he bent his back to the task. He could see a boot and it was Alexander’s. He dug like a man possessed as Toby danced around him barking encouragement. ‘Alexander’ he called and was rewarded by a low sleepy moan from inside.
Maggie held the mobile phone in her hand and listened to it ringing until she heard Alexanders voice, ‘its Alexander, leave a message and I might call you back’ and her heart sank. ‘Alexander’ she said as if the phone was a lifeline to god, ‘please answer your phone, I love you Alexander, please answer your phone’.
Andy had cleared the hail from the opening into the hollow tree and was easing his son’s legs out of the hole one at a time. Alexander wasn’t much help but at least he could hear him breathing and occasionally moaning in his disturbed sleep. ‘Alexander wake up, wake up and help me. You seem stuck inside this log’.
Andy patiently had drawn both of Alexander’s legs straight and had turned his son on his back. This allowed him to carefully pull the boy out into the leaf and branch littered white landscape. He was so focused on this agonisingly slow and fatiguing process that when he finally stopped long enough to look at his son he saw five pairs of eyes looking confused and blinking at him, Alexander’s and four Brushtail Possums curled up on his chest. They all looked so cute and comfortable, he fleetingly wished he had brought his camera.
Alexander was now being licked into wakefulness by a joyous Toby who was not at all interested in the possums curled up on his lap. ‘It must be their complete lack of fear or something’ Andy thought. With a deep sense of gratitude because he knew that these little animals had probably saved his son’s life , he carefully picked them up one at a time and placed them back inside the hollow tree promising them that he would never curse a Brushtail Possum when it raucously jumped onto the tin roof again. He put a few fallen logs against the opening just in case Toby changed his mind or a hungry fox came sniffing. He lifted Alexander on to his back, piggyback style, thinking of the last time he had carried him on his back when he was about five years old and a hell of a lot lighter. As he was trudging back along following his own tracks in the hail, the trumpets that had fallen silent when he was digging Alexander free, began sounding out again.
Alexander reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out his iPhone and said ‘Hi Mum. Dad and I are on our way home and some hot chicken noodle soup would be great’.
Andy stood stock still trying to decide if he had heard something or not. It sounded like trumpets or was it a mobile phone ringing. Strangely it seemed to be coming from the dead possum hanging from the old dead tree. He released Toby and turned back to the tree listening and looking as he walked. ‘What would a mobile phone be doing ringing out here and why is it coming form that dead Brushtail Possum’? he mused. As soon as the ringing started it had stopped so Andy shook his head feeling he had been mistaken and started walking away from the tree.
Toby was barking and digging as if he had a rabbit down a burrow. ‘Get out of it’, come away’ said Andy with the voice of authority that mustn’t be denied. Toby looked up and then turned back to his digging. ‘Toby, come away’ said Andy with more intensity and lifting the decibels to a deafening level. Toby faltered a moment and then went back to his digging and now no cursing or yelling could divert him. ‘Dam dog’ thought Andy, ‘now is not the time to dig out a rabbit’. He walked over and grabbed the dog’s collar dragging the struggling creature toward the path back to the house, when the ringing he had heard earlier started up again, but this time it was coming from Toby’s rabbit hole.
Andy now on knees was digging frantically at the piled up hail with his hands. It was like digging a hole in razer sharp gravel and the snow white hail was turning dark red around the digger’s hands. But Andy felt no pain, his hands worked like steel trowels, hard and unyielding and he bent his back to the task. He could see a boot and it was Alexander’s. He dug like a man possessed as Toby danced around him barking encouragement. ‘Alexander’ he called and was rewarded by a low sleepy moan from inside.
Maggie held the mobile phone in her hand and listened to it ringing until she heard Alexanders voice, ‘its Alexander, leave a message and I might call you back’ and her heart sank. ‘Alexander’ she said as if the phone was a lifeline to god, ‘please answer your phone, I love you Alexander, please answer your phone’.
Andy had cleared the hail from the opening into the hollow tree and was easing his son’s legs out of the hole one at a time. Alexander wasn’t much help but at least he could hear him breathing and occasionally moaning in his disturbed sleep. ‘Alexander wake up, wake up and help me. You seem stuck inside this log’.
Andy patiently had drawn both of Alexander’s legs straight and had turned his son on his back. This allowed him to carefully pull the boy out into the leaf and branch littered white landscape. He was so focused on this agonisingly slow and fatiguing process that when he finally stopped long enough to look at his son he saw five pairs of eyes looking confused and blinking at him, Alexander’s and four Brushtail Possums curled up on his chest. They all looked so cute and comfortable, he fleetingly wished he had brought his camera.
Alexander was now being licked into wakefulness by a joyous Toby who was not at all interested in the possums curled up on his lap. ‘It must be their complete lack of fear or something’ Andy thought. With a deep sense of gratitude because he knew that these little animals had probably saved his son’s life , he carefully picked them up one at a time and placed them back inside the hollow tree promising them that he would never curse a Brushtail Possum when it raucously jumped onto the tin roof again. He put a few fallen logs against the opening just in case Toby changed his mind or a hungry fox came sniffing. He lifted Alexander on to his back, piggyback style, thinking of the last time he had carried him on his back when he was about five years old and a hell of a lot lighter. As he was trudging back along following his own tracks in the hail, the trumpets that had fallen silent when he was digging Alexander free, began sounding out again.
Alexander reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out his iPhone and said ‘Hi Mum. Dad and I are on our way home and some hot chicken noodle soup would be great’.
