Monday, October 12, 2009

Ghost Gum

He dug the hole as quickly as he could. Sweat covered his face and soaked his shirt. The root of a long-dead bush or tree appeared in the bottom of the hole. He attacked it with the edge of the spade. The inside of the root flashed white and fresh against the dirt. Eventually he hacked through it.

After a while, the hole was big enough. He allowed himself a moment, leaning on his spade, breathing hard, to admire his creation. Then he went back to work.

When he walked back to his car, exhausted, he left behind him a freshly planted, well fertilised Ghost Gum. Aptly named, he thought.

(The Ghost Gum is native to Central Queensland).

3 comments:

Angel Zapata said...

A symbolically spiritual rebirth. Out of death springs life. Solid piece of flash, Bernard.

And as it so happens the word verfication to post this comment is "ashies." Ashes to ashes and dust to dust...how cool is that?

Erin Cole said...

I like the physical exertion in this, the determination to create from work and dirt. The root an obstacle, flashing white flesh with a twist of irony.

Mattrozzi said...

I love the line "The inside of the root flashed white and fresh against the dirt".