Category: Nature

Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

Element of Magic in the Aussie Outback

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
As the wind blows through the gum leaves,
The ants creep leaf to leaf through lower bushes,
Grandmother sun bears down making the ground 
Too hot to walk upon and yet late afternoon there’s near not a sound…

For even the birdlife retreats in the summer,
Seeking treetops cooler or some other water source,
As the heat of an outback summers day can be unbearable,
And ’tis abundantly worse before rain finds its course!

And yet there's an element of magic in the Aussie Outback,
One wont find similar to any place else,
Though hard to define ’tis nothing short of enchanting,
Guaranteed to make you question if you’re even standing!

For when the breeze wisps the bushland into an oceanic chorus,
And the red sand beneath ones feet ’tis hot as red coals,
The wildlife looks hugable though it’s often dangerous,
As one’s mind blunders things into different roles…

Plants are delicate in design and robust and sturdy,
Whilst the colourful birdlife fill the air with song,
If one’s to close their eyes and just feel and listen,
’Tis nothing short of magic imagining where each element may belong…
Posted in Bush poetry, Info Poem, Nature, Poetry

The Woes of the Outback in Summertime…

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
The Australian Outback though it be known,
For vast red sand dunes and blue grey gumtrees...
Can near be a place of horror stories once the weather is warm,
Rather than the place tourists enjoy in wintertime's ease...

For many a heatwave that shan’t ease at night,
’Tis only eased slightly by the erratic wild storms delight,
Whilst reptiles move into houses that are kept cooler,
and the spiders appear where you least expect them...
Creating the perfect place for real life nightmares to stem!

The wildlife ~ though cute ~ lines the roads all the more,
For the slightest of moisture dusk through dawn has in store,
Destroying both themselves and one’s car should they happen to startle,
Creating yet another not so delightful debacle...

For to drive in the day though the blistering heat,
As the bitumen melts is equally unsweet..
The Car’s hot enough to burn you when touched,
And if the air conditioner goes - pray you survive,
The heat inside is worse to endure and make it alive!

Thus is an element of the woes of the Outback in summertime,
When thoughts of cold beers and water styled fun,
Feature in thoughts this third of the year for most whom dwell,
Knowing despite the blistering mayhem ‘tis a place truly second to none!
Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

In the Abyss…

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
In the abyss of the nighttime post midnight ‘till dawn,
One may think near not a thing may go on…
Yet the bushland ’tis oft’ more alive night than day,
For in the cool of the night in summer ’tis easier to play…

The old farm dogs may bark at the roo’s by the fence,
Making those unadapted a touch on edge or tense,
Owl’s are obviously patiently awaiting their prey,
Which slithers or scampers wherever be it’s way.

Yet there always shall be times in the dark of the moon,
When thing’s do happen to seem rather out of tune,
As we perceive the nighttime to be a style of dark abyss,
Fueling our minds into imagining something amiss…

Despite our knowing it to be far from the truth,
Most stemming from fairy tale stories in our youth,
We see night too often as a dark abyss to fear,
Rather than just a time with less light to hold equally dear.

A cooler time where joey’s play and echidna’s snuffle,
Snakes slither and wild pigs create a kerfuffle…
Kultars and gecko’s explore to feast on their favorite insects,
Whilst frogs and crickets flex their tune of dialects…

’Tis actually a sweeter time in the Outback vast,
For the blistering heat of the day has finally passed,
Allowing one to enjoy the serenity found in the abyss,
Sans the chaos of the day, to replenish in the nights bliss.
Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

Wisp O’ the Wind

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
When not a leaf is moving,
And the day is sticky and thick,
The heat's so dense it’s hard to breathe,
As one contemplates lazing round near in the nick…

No bird is stirring though the midst of the day,
’Tis too dry and hot even for them,
The flys though are out in force to drive most mad,
However ’tis not a horror story from which this stems…

’Tis but a normal late spring/summers day in the outback,
The sort of midday that blisters and burns,
Australia into being the Sunburnt Country,
When it's beaches and wintertime for which one yearns.

Thus when not a moment too late a glimpse of a breeze,
Bring’s a micro glimmer of reliefs hope to all,
One revels in it’s gentle kiss guiding the gum leaves to dance,
From ground to tip it illusions a slight sway to the call.

Though soon the breeze light strengthens boldly,
Lifting the top layer of dust in it’s path,
As it strengthens to blow a rage through the bush,
Leaving near no debris in it’s aftermath…

And yet as it roars through the scrub,
One can’t help but notice how much it sounds like the ocean,
Rising and crashing like waves on beach rocks,
Although it be leaves here in motion.

Posted in Nature, Poetry

Berry Pickin’

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 


Once a seed with potential loaded,
Erupting skyward through earths crust,
Craving sunlight and damp soil for its  thirst to quench,
Implanting its roots deeply to thrive ‘tis thrust.

Day by day, soon year by year, each season passing swift,
Strengthening in its not quite sheltered spot,
Gains this one an edge most dream but rarely appear to receive,
Yet here it thrives boldly onward beside its equally thriving cohort!

Thus as it cycles through the seasons soon it starts to bloom,
Blossoming with a sweetened scent to all nearby,
‘Till weeks pass and the last fluff like piece falls upon the breeze,
Leaving green growing fruit to mark that berry picking shall soon be nigh… 

Weeks pass berries ripen, through different shades of red,
Eager little mouths testing fast to see if the time is yet,
For patience is something near bested with each not quite ripe berry ‘tis said,
Though a long moment waiting builds its strength more than they fret.

Thus when many a berry ‘tis finally ready to pick at its flavourful peak,
Buckets and ladders venture forth to the tree for the happy feat,
Of plucking its rather juicy bounty from branches far from bleak,
Though once committed ‘tis a task not exactly for those too meek…

Yet on they pluck berry by berry stopping to taste so few,
Once buckets are full one looks to find there’s still plenty for the birds too,
For when trees be loaded with more berries than leaves there’s certainly no need to que,
One can pick away ‘till all’s content that one is finally through!

Then onward comes the tasks of jam making,
Freezing amounts desired and slice baking,
For with such an abundance comes an element of sharing the undertaking,
Knowing with time shall again come such a tasty bountiful partaking!

Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

Off Upon a Bushwalk!

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
Boots on ‘n’ out the door,
For ‘tis winter outback once more!
The safest season to head into the Aussie bush,
To go camping, play and explore!

Post planning, supplies packed, checkin’s organised,
Venturing through the bushland can be an adventure to open eyes,
For autumn rains and cooler weather trigger winter’s abundance,
Though sans knowledge or local guidance the bush can be a fool’s demise…

Yet when one’s off upon a bushwalk on a clear, cool afternoon,
One can revel in wonders to be found all around,
From wildlife equally enjoying the crisp winter air,
To the rainbow of parrots, wrens and finches singing sweetly their own sound.

There’s fuzzy rain created moss covering’s beneath many a tree,
Tall seed headed grasses wave upon the gentle breeze,
Many are gum loaded with buds soon to flower,
The energy of the bushland’s generally one to empower;

Then comes the element of discovering that which came before,
With Animal tracks, that long forgotten now overgrown and near ancient trees galore,
Thus exploring in the amazing Australian bushland is far from ever a bore,
For one can never know exactly what each bushwalk has in store!

Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

Dawn upon the Outback day.

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
As the sun’s light seeps into the outback,
The bushland’s as still as can be,
For the nocturnal creatures have gone to bed,
And the daytime array are just now waking to see…

Thus there’s a stillness in the dawn time,
Where only those from dusk chirp and whir,
For even the earliest bird’s still in their nest,
Though Morning activities are starting to stir…

As a ray of sunshine finally finds its way,
As does the first birds sweet chirpy song,
Animals awaken with the warming light,
With this day anew yet to have a wrong.

Soon starts the chorus of magpie’s warble,
Unmistakable amongst the melodious array of a birdlife orchestra,
Whilst emu’s bass is only heard by those nearby,
And cockatoo’s shriek ‘tis much like a rookie fiddlers beta.

Before too long the dawn blends into morning, 
The birdlife settles into their day’s mundane,
The dew drops dried and reptiles warmed,
The sunkissed outback life ‘tis one uniquely within its own seraphic lane.
Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

When the storms roll on in.

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
The Blue sky greys above the tree tops,
Shades off black and daunting,
The pre-rain aroma ‘tis yet to fill the air,
With Gidgee’s wreak ever so revolting.

The box trees leaves soon change their hue,
To a green contrasting boldly the darkness of the sky,
Stillness when paired with warmer humidity,
Join Mother Nature’s warning a storm is nigh.

Creatures of all kinds seek their favourite spots,
With a style near of electrifying grace and haste,
‘Till thunder starts to grumble through the air,
All knowing there’s soon a storm to face.

Though a summer storm brings welcomed rain,
They’re polar contrasts to winter’s style so peaceful,
They possess effects challenging enough to be a pain,
Including chain lightning, flooding and destruction creating situations for all eventful.

For when hail and droplets heavy hide the bushland that surrounds,
One knows there’ll be nothing but mud for days upon the ground,
Yet once it does dry the outback blooms now with replenishment abounds,
Attracting birdlife and creatures moved along from where ‘tis still dry,
Thus filling fresh rinsed air with all their grateful sweet sounds!



Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

Autumnal Outback

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
After a blistering outback summer near unbearable,
The likes of Gidgee take their turn to bloom,
Whilst animals and people all around enjoy the reprive,
And campfires are planned beneath the April moon.

For soon shall be the time for camping trips,
Bush Adventures and the like galore,
As the Australian Outback comes back to life,
When most of the reptiles take their turn to snore!

Gardeners and farmers sow the winters seeds,
And pray their efforts bring forth that intended rather than abundant weeds,
Native mammals take their turn to be more active,
Whilst the colours of an autumnal outback have their moment to believe.

Thus from Gumtrees cooler shades of grey blue,
To Gidgee’s bumble bee blossoms blooming on cue,
Contrasting the dirt to seem a shade redder in hue,
Though seraphically beautiful ‘tis parallel to springtimes slew.

The more gentle rains bring green grasses back,
Bird life’s change from summer predators to winter finches seems near a hack,
As new surprises have a tendency to never lack,
For ‘tis that fun part of the year commencing when Australia cools its way into an Autumnal Outback!

Posted in Bush poetry, Nature, Poetry

When the Kingfisher’s come to call.

Posted on by Tracey L. Bhattarai 
As the butterfly’s flutter amongst the flowers,
Upon a cool late summer morn,
A Kingfisher or three come to visit our garden,
Bringing many to their window to fawn.

For these quiet pocket sized hunters,
Are quite a sight to behold,
For though they could hide in a coffee cup,
They perch in clear sight bright and bold.

With sapphire plumage highlighted with yellow,
A white collar and breast to match,
A clear shot of one with a good camera,
‘Tis something of a rather rare catch.

For they tend to be always diligent,
Ready to be come and gone in a moment,
Not wary but mindful of the cat,
For they don’t find him a worthy opponent.

Though ‘tis their spear like beak and speed,
That they deem to be their prized assets great,
Despite their unmissable characteristics,
They rarely slip to fate. 

For when the Kingfisher’s come to call,
‘Tis a delight to one and all,
Unless you happen to be their prey,
They tend to leave one in a happier day.