Outback Exodus (19 page)

It is a long walk from the parking area to the look out, but the track winds and t
wists through the bush. Wait a While vines hang down and snag at our clothing as we walk and we stop often to pull them away from our bodies. This takes time and it is that time that gives this looped vine its name. It is almost as if Tarzan had been swinging through and left his transporting vines hanging for his return and I almost expected to hear that wild cry ring out through the bush. I smile to myself at my vivid imagination and push onward towards the lookout. The path is steep and narrow in places and steps have been formed from beaten earth and treated timber logs that have been laid across the path and the earth piled up behind them and then beaten down until tight. These steps last for many years and mean that the path is safer to walk. Walking in a rain forest can be quite slippery due to the constant dampness and moss formation; this had been a public area park prior to the earthquakes so public safety would have been paramount. Now it is a deserted spot high in the hills, just the place to pull off the mountain road to rest and recover from the long journey across the outback.

The track takes a sudden rise up around a steep section of rocky ground, just a light covering of clay over the rocks give the trees and bushes some purchase and hide the view of the valley until you step out onto the wooden viewing platform. We all walk slowly out towards the edge of this dark stained wooden fort and hang in space over the edge of the valley below us.

I’ve kept my eyes down on my feet for the last few minutes, I can smell the fear on myself as I breathe the moist air of the bush, and it mingles with the smell of sweat from the heat and humidity and the smell of damp, rotting leaves that hangs over the rain forest. I am afraid of what I will see once I lift my head. The fear of the sight of my home destroyed as so much of the outback has been sends a cold chill down my spine and a lump to my throat that means that I cannot speak. My mind races ahead and my imagination conjures up visions of the mass destruction of tsunami’s that I have seen on the television in the past. I take a deep breath and slowly raise my head. Before me lies the valley where I grew to adulthood.

A strong arm gently pulls me towards a warm body and I stand and gaze out over the railing with tears in my eyes I see a blurred vision of the most
incredible sight I have ever seen. I look to the left and smile shakily at Gavin through my tears.

Many buildings have fallen, there is little movement across the wide expanse of t
he river flats, but there are signs that a tsunami has happened. Great cracks have appeared in the valley floor and snake for miles across these fertile plains. They dissect the earth, split farms in two and push the highway that runs across the valley into several sections. Mud and debris lie everywhere, there are boats miles inland and stranded across fences. Many of the dairy farm houses that have stood for generations are in ruins and there is little sign of movement towards the coast. The dairy cattle that have always roamed the vast flood plains are missing and trees are piled haphazardly in a jagged line where the tsunami reached its zenith. More destruction and devastation, more lives lost or changed for ever.

Parts of Gordon are still standing though, those parts that are high on the hill. I can’t make out details even through the binoculars but I can see the house where I grew up, the
stark white of the house stands out against the blue sky and the murky green of the restless sea.

The trip down to Gordon is going to be a long and difficult trip. What and who we will find when we get there we cannot and do not know. We have almost reached the coast though and with the loss of only one life during the journey it is time for us to head into the future and rebuild our lives as best we can.

I stand on the lookout, Gavin’s arm around my shoulders and I sob quietly for the loss of so many friends and so much of our lives.
I do not know how long I stood there, but the sobs subsided as for the last time I mourn the past. Once the tears stop and I dry my eyes I turn to Gavin and smile shakily and clear my throat.

“Okay, we got this far, time for us to build our new lives.”

The End

The journey to the coast is now almost completed, but the story of how
our hero’s rebuild their lives is coming soon.

Please keep watching for the
sequel due for publication in late 2013

“Settled on the Coast”

About the Author

Dawn Millen was born in North Wales UK has lived for long periods in New Zealand and currently lives on the beautiful Mid North Coast of New South Wales Australia in a small rural town. She loves to travel and explore the local are with her much loved dog by her side.

For 25 years Dawn cared for her disabled husband and after his death started writing. Her first book, “Widowhood 101” was published in May 2012 and quickly followed by “Widowhood 102 – The Diary Entries” and “Widowhood 103 – Tears Grief”. Widowhood 103 was written in collaboration with Annie Watson. These three books form part of a series of books describing Dawn’s journey through the death of her husband and the first year of widowhood. There are more books planned for the series over the coming years as the changes wrought by the loss of her much loved husband become apparent.

Dawn has also been writing poetry for many years and with her love of words draws pictures for others to see the world through her eyes. During 2012 she published many poems written over the years of caregiving and during the first two years of her widowhood. These are not gloomy poems; they are a collection of thoughts and impressions garnered through the years.

The books are

Random Rhymes

Every Day Poetry

Winter Memories

Sitting in the Sun

Sea Eagles and Quiet Hours

“Outback Exodus” is Dawn’s first venture into publishing her fiction work and the story has been written with a deep love of Australia that expands across the vast Outback and culminates on the beautiful East Coast Flood Plains. If you enjoy the work please return to Amazon.com and leave a review.

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