it’s a 5am rise
an hours drive in the pre-dawn
gnagarra rd traffic
battling tradies down west swan rd
up the mundaring hill
deep in sawyers valley bliss
its all 7am shadows
frost vs fog
man vs paddock
at the treedump
full uteload of pinasta boxes loaded
then gear up, launch off the back of the tray
buckets on, bombing the hills
for 200 trees each run
walking the Whadjuk country
planting tool in hand, a swing
and a drop, a heel or a toe
to firm one by one
step up inclines, jarrah vistas
her cloud waft from the ridges
we float through the burnt areas
all charcoal and moss and sweat
to gaze back up the section
each seedling perfectly heeled
3000 each in the ground today
stems stand bolt upright from the ripline
every fourth step a new tree
carnabys and red-tails hover
the avian squawk symphony
an audience of emu
and kangaroo
as the Makuru sun speaks
boots all sodden, a squelch of socks
and the sun drops fast here
counting down the days
back to you