12 November 2024
15 July 2025
in progress
privileged earthling
my friend Drink Pink-Gin, founder of inflight entertainment now, drinks pink gin whilst travelling to and from their holiday destinations (only the travel is work), an armless hirsute I would join in on if it were not for the carbon cost of the underarm miles to get there
and back – to our paradisaical home in lutruwita to where all air roads seem to lead – at least to a hick like me who, although devoted to the endemic vegetation (more on, below), also, like Drink does, loves the pale pink Cécile Brünner that strays beside the arbour in our garden beneath kunanyi
who rears 1200 metres behind us
she’s a darling of a mountain, tho’ she frowns when weather deeps around her and rough clouds bruise her brow
in 1920 at the age of four my father stood outside his home in Campbell Street and gazed through midday darkness to the stabs and blurs of fire through ghouls of smoke that rose from the mountain’s burning
at least one great great grandchild has lived to see the few remaining giant skeletons of trees still standing
aged and occupied by opportunistic microbiota, insects, small birds, possums and other tourist draw cards that wish they were
but a mountain remembers nothing
neither does Drink Pink-Gin – they prefer the present perfected by a mile of air beneath them and an endless screen before
while I’m at home and wandering
daily to the brink of alpine air
…