Exactly what it says in the title for once. I've had it in my mind
for some time that one night with a full moon when there's
harvesting going on in the distance, with lights from all the
various tractors, trucks, and harvesters flickering away, that I
should walk out to somewhere side-on to them and just watch them.
Some night when it's warm so I can walk through the paddocks naked,
with just my boots on, because I'm nuts. So when I went out to put
some of the stuff that I've been sorting out this weekend in the
shed, naked as usual in these summer evenings, and noticed the full
moon and distant lights emphasised by a loud roar of engines, I
figured I'd walk a little way into an adjoing paddock.
It turns out they were a lot further away than they sounded, as is
often the case on still nights, but I kept on walking down the farm
tracks, slowly resolving to make it to one of the rear corners of
the property, a kilometer or so away. I had a torch, but the moon
lit the way fine even after the last rays of sunset had
disappeared, showing the paths most free of grass, rocks, and
prickly weeds, as I walked alongside my shadow of the raw human
figure.
The closer I got, the quieter the sound became. The land has no
steep rises or valleys, yet slight contours over such distance
bounce sound about in ever surprising ways, so even as I got nearer
the roar of engines gave way to the peace of night and became
nothing more than a vague distant humm by the time I reached the
far gate facing the deserted gravel road running alongside that
boundary of the property. I didn't take the most direct route,
stopping off in a tree plantation to stare through the orderly rows
of tree trunks while surprised birds fluttered above, and getting
slightly disorientated while walking the tracks through the long
grass of the last paddock. Much the same as my little road trips
really, which sometimes unexpectedly end up at tracks in little
better condition than those I was walking.
At the gate the still-distant dance of headlights and orange
beacons, cris-crossing a paddock some unknown kilometers away, was
as beautiful to see as I'd hoped. I went back a little way along
the boundary fence to climb up the mound of earth beside a nearby
dam, with the vague outline of a kangaroo seen bounding away as I
went. To climb up I had to venture for the first time into the long
grass, making heavy footsteps to scare away anything else that
might be hiding. While the long strands of grass ticked my
undercarriage, I hoped they didn't deposit too many grumpy spiders
in the process. Sitting down into a grassy bed, I watched, from
slightly above, the constant quiet rhythum of huge vehicles moving
in their varied ways around the distant field. Too far to really
see what vehicle was what from just the lights, but able to see
them turning back and forth, making their own little dance while
unaware of the indecently dressed audience watching on from one
dark mound on the horizon.
I stayed there a little while, not that long. Again like with my
road trips I wondered how it would be doing it with a girlfriend.
Whether with someone else I could follow such a chaotic route while
nevertheless sticking to a particular objective, without feeling
too appologetic and compromising, and whether I'd see with them the
beauty in the scene at the end, or whether it would end up purely a
sexual thing, absorbed in each other, and whether I'd actually like
that better?
I considered going for a swim but without a towell it would have
been too cold going back wet and muddy. It was a hot day, but the
night cooled off a fair bit in preparation for a cooler day
tomorrow, a perfect temperature for a walk like that though, for me
at least. As I started on my way back I looked up to the sky and
saw a fast moving 'star', which I would have once (probably still
presumptuously) thought was the ISS, but perhaps might now be one
of the Star Link LEO satellites. I mused for a time, while walking
back on a slightly more sensible path, on the power of someone in
America to change what a naked man in Australia sees while walking
across the empty countryside. But the thought soon faded, as in
practice it was no more significant to me than the lights coming
from the farm machines, or lights from distant houses which became
visible as I walked in the other direction, my shadow now leading
the way. Little rays of humanity shining out into the dark world of
nature, yet marking out a new nature all of their own.
The dim light from my own house eventually came into view, a beacon
of the civilised life that I'd left behind for just two or three
hours. I sat on the rock where I wrote my ROOPHLOCH entry last
year, until I'd cooled down a bit from the walk, then went on up to
the light, through the back door, and over to the computer to write
this post while drinking some water. Why write this post? I have no
idea. But now, with the clock just ticking past midnight, I'm off
to bed.
