The stonewalled waterhole, amongst bushes on the out mark is dry now, stones have been falling to the bottom where there is rubbish, plastic bags and empty paint tins, makes it a sad sight.
Until a few years ago, when local farmers had sheep it was in regular use, I saw a fledgling once learning to fly, miss the bush it aimed for landed in the water, giving up on life without a struggle.
The young have better education, moved to big towns, their children are scared of rabbits and what crawls in the grass, often obese, they can't wait to be back to the city, after visiting grandparents.
The track leading to the waterhole is barely visible I was the only one going there till I found a scented silk hanky, the hankering for the old days has gone, the mysterious lady is my new future.
