Ok. So here I am, as promised, out on the open road once more. While travelling today I remembered how much I loved Walt Whitman’s ‘Song of the Open Road’ back in the early seventies. At the time we were travelling Australia – for two years. So I thought I’d start this post with a few lines from Walt’s very long poem.
‘Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road
Healthy, free, the world before me
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose
You road I enter upon and look around
I believe you are not all that is here
I believe that much unseen is also here.’
Here Walt goes into a long rave about all that he has seen apart from the road itself –
…… ‘the beggar’s tramp, the drunkard’s stagger, the laughing party of mechanics,
the escaped youth, the rich person’s carriage, the fop, the eloping couple.
The early market man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into town.’……
all are dear to me.’
We were camped at Uluru a week ago. On the morning after we’d arrived, I was sitting outside our camper van having breakfast when I heard a woman calling her dog. Standard grey nomad. Right coloured hair, the sleeveless T-shirt over her ample upper, knee length shorts, thongs were missing. She hadn’t had time to put them on when feisty little pomeranian Cooper had made a dash for freedom past her as she exited their caravan.
‘Stop him,’ she yelled to a neighbouring nomad, as she tried to run barefooted across sharp gravel, arms out, wincing in pain with every heavy step.
‘There’s a bloody big dog over there that’ll eat him if he gets too close.’
Cooper bounced past the neighbour in the invigorating early morning air.
‘Come to Mummy Darling,’ said Cooper’s Mum as he stopped to decide whether to choose Mummy’s sweet voice or the freedom he hadn’t known since they left home months ago. She walked slowly and gingerly towards him, familiar hand held out. He stopped, trotted towards her – inches away from the outstretched hand. She lunged at him as he took off at a rate of knots.
‘COOPER! Come back here you little shit!.’
For the next half hour, the little so and so had most of the people in the park on a merry chase. As he bounced past me I spoke in dulcet tones.
‘Cooper. Here Sweetie.’ He stopped, approached, sniffed my hand. I attempted to grab him. But he’d quickly learned the knack of keeping just out of reach.
Cooper’s Dad standing in the doorway of the caravan yelling at Mrs. Grey Nomad ‘Why the f….. did you let him out.’
“I didn’t. He just shot past me. Alright you effen get him then. I’m about to have a heart attack.’
By now her feet must have been nearly bleeding. She sat gasping for breath on the step of the caravan as he took over.
Best fun the little brat had had in months.
Finally Mum stood up.
‘I know what I’ll do.’
She opened the passenger side door of the car, got in the driver’s side and started the car. Cooper came tearing from the outer reaches of the park and leapt into the car.
I didn’t know this little story would take so long to tell. There are many more I have gathered on this journey so they’ll go into the melting pot for next blog.
Can’t resist a few more beautiful lines of Walt’s poem to finish.
‘The earth expanding right hand and left hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted,
and stopping where it is not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road,
the gay fresh sentiment of the road.’ …..
‘From this hour I ordain myself loosed of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master, total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently, but with undeniable will,
divesting myself of the holds that would hold me,
I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south
All seems beautiful to me’ ….
What a poem. It suits me to the ground. I grow older and get a few more wrinkles with passing time. Other bits of me lose their tautness but my nature remains the same, and my character only improves with experiences like this.
Will keep you posted. Three more weeks to go.
Keep safe.
Sue