The Mighty Murray

And Her Wisdom Keepers

Winter sunset on the Murray River. July 3, 2018

This afternoon l returned from a three day camping trip to Echuca, a historic river port on The Mighty Murray as she is affectionately known. I am a member of a women’s solo camping group and this is an annual winter event. The longest river in Australia, she carves a meandering path, covering some 2,500 km. The Great Dividing Range in NE Victoria is her source, thus providing a natural border with NSW until she opens her mouth to the Southern Ocean in South Australia.

She is part of the Murray-Darling Basin; a water system which stretches over a million square kilometres, including sections of the four states of the eastern side of Australia. You can only imagine the ecological cost on her and her inhabitants, subject to the mismanagement and competing demands of agriculture and recreation. However, she is unyielding in her natural recovery efforts.

A houseboat trip on the Murray in July 2018 was the first of two successive last holidays for John and I. On both occasions we were with friends. John wasn’t quite up to it physically, and though he was agreeable, l felt an inner conflict. His neck muscles were failing him, making travel uncomfortable. Not that he mentioned it or complained. We all had one person to farewell, he had several. We didn’t discuss such matters. As another friend had noted, we had developed a telepathic knowing during his illness. Besides, John was not one for discussing the bloody obvious.

We enjoyed being on the water, motor idling just enough to offer us an illusion of floating, as if drifting on a tranquil current. We sat on the deck capturing the winter sun; those moments her gentle kisses brush your face, making pleasant the chill that stings a reddish hue on your cheeks.

Being still and silent. Though the river is not tacit, not in herself, not in the life she supports. The bird life speaks of its own on and around her waters, and such is her diversity she offered us glimpses of grasslands, wetlands, farms, a National Park. What was permanent was her welcoming, nurturing presence and her iconic, resilient river red gums.

So, this weekend my first greeting was made at the river; to the resilient reds, guardians of the the mighty Murray and her inhabitants. With gratitude; with respect for these elders, some of whom have been observing life for hundreds of years. Upon returning to my campervan, and before greeting the tribe of women campers, l penned this poem. It came quickly and freely; l expect the reds had known l was coming to pay my respects.

The Mighty Murray

I walked to the river … to remember …

To meet Her Majesty … a tree …

A River Red Gum.

To place my hand on … her …

Guarding girth … holding ancient memories …

The wisdom of her keeping.

She knows of you … of me …

Of every laughing kookaburra,

Callers heralding the dawn … the dusk.

Of every limb … and leaf

She birthed … and lost.

Of every crafted knot.

Of every hollow and animal she hosts,

Of every feathered … larrikin,

Cockatoos jostling … for their night roost.

Witness to every folly …

Of the human … larrikin,

Trying to make meek … The Mighty Murray.