MEMORIES OF A CEDAR CUTTER . . .
On his verandah there sat the old man, box of old photos on the ground
reliving days of his youth as cedar cutter, when still of body and mind sound
now almost confined to chair in his twilight years, dog keeping him company
memories come flooding back, from years gone by, they were varied and many
Magically, in his mind's eye, photos came alive, showing mates and working chums
revealing dense expanse of mountains,valleys, with stands of of tall grey-green gums
they treated each other like a brother, the years they spend helping one another
that special bond seemed still to exist even now, when there was a get-together
Echoes of the sounds of axes reverberating, cutting down tall cedar trees, chop, chop
the call of 'timber', a very pronounced silence, giant whoosh, when the giant did drop
in the distance the bullocky was waiting with his team, whip cracking, chains a rattle
to move this giant down the steep mountain would be a difficult job, a real battle
The bullocks pulled this way and that, the bullocky's colour language renting the air
come on you lazy molly, daisy, you can do better, I want a bit more bloody pull there
steam rising from backs, straining chains to breaking point, whip swooshing in air
finally the log started to move,this was the danger point, one had to take care
Those were hectic days, no letting up of arduous shifting of logs, more ahead
logs had to be moved of mountain, come what may, one careless move, you're dead
they were held on embankments near river, on which to be floated after rain
there were many such places, to drag logs too far was too dangerous, steep terrain
Soon the rain did come, the logs released into river, the dangerous work now began
guiding them over rapids, arond bends, untangling logs caught up in jam
one had to be almost ballet dancer, jumping from log to log, slippery and wet
some lives were lost, crushed by logs, losing footing, so far hadn't happened yet
As men and logs furiously sped past, looking on in awe settlers along river
those taking risks, the thought of one slipping under logs made you shiver
after hazardous journey logs finally reached enormous millpond, a holding yard
from here thru noisy saws, processing of beautiful timber would now start