Open Writing

A grey feathery collar of cloud encircled the thumb-like summit of Mt Warning. Looking up through the canopy I could not help wondering why we continued up the steep muddy track. It was obvious that because of the clouds, the view over the Tweed valley and all along the eastern New South Wales coastline would be totally obscured. It would make our effolrts completely pointless.

“Come along folks, no lagging behind,’’ our over-eager young tour guide foolishly encouraged us. “No one is to leave the group. We must all keep together. It is too dangerous to be on your own.’’

Dangerous my foot, I never heard of such idiocy. Blind cripples could find their way back down.

No one else was game enough to question the senselessness of the exercise. Imagining pitying looks from the others, I pushed on.

Scrambling up the increasingly greasy track and not looking where I put my feet, I suddenly slipped and came close to spraining my ankle on some loose rocks.

Without my invitation a young back-packer, who had unofficially joined our group, proffered his hand to help pull me up. Just because I am over fifty it does not mean that I am incapable of looking after myself. The cheek of him! When I brusquely refused his assistance he quickly moved on ahead through the others. I never saw him again, not that I wished to. I did envy his youthfulness though and he did appear to have a fine athletic body under his ridiculous rumpled clothing.

The only couple in our tour were walking just ahead of me. They were holding hands with mutual possessiveness like a pair of teenagers. He wore a Hawaiian style floral shirt, oversized checked cotton shorts with sandals over calf-length dark blue Argyle socks. Her figure, all boobs and bum, was almost indecently attired in a skimpy sleeveless top, skin-tight shorts and sandshoes. I could just imagine their banal conversation. They could talk all day and yet say absolutely nothing. God! I hope they don’t attach themselves to me.

I suddenly found myself fiddling with my wedding ring.

My whole body was wringing wet with perspiration and my water bottle half empty when our over-zealous leader called out, “You can take a break now folks.”

I happily flopped down against the nearest tree.

An elegantly dressed man who had been walking immediately behind me leant against the same tree. “You look about all in, dear lady.”

His plummy deep English accent interrupted my thoughts. I had noticed him earlier sitting in front of me in the coach. Unlike many men his age he had a rich head of silver-grey hair. “A bit pointless this venture if you ask me,” he continued, tilting his head back towards the peak.

I almost snapped, “I am not your lady or any one else’s I’ll have you know,’’ but as he sounded genuine I changed my mind and speaking matter-of-factly said, “Yes I agree, I would not have come if I known what an exhausting hopeless business it was going to be. I am really annoyed with myself.”

“I would not have come either if I had not promised my dear wife that I would.”

I looked at him bewildered, as I could see no woman with him.

“I should explain,’’ he added, “I lost my wife very recently. That has to be one of the most idiotic expressions one could ever use, don’t you agree? Losing one’s wife or husband, when you know damned well that they are not lost at all. It’s almost as if you have put them down somewhere and cannot remember where you left them. Anyway, as I was trying to say, after a long hopeless fight with cancer my wife passed away. My children suggested that I go abroad for an extended holiday; I reluctantly agreed, and so here I am. Quite frankly, this is the last place I would have chosen to be on such a sweltering day.”

“I was so angry with our tour leader a little earlier that I felt like cracking him over the head with my widow maker.” I chipped in half-jokingly.

“Your widow maker, did you say?”

”Yes, this widow maker”.’’ I held up my stout bent stick to make my point. “Blackbutt gum trees are notorious for dropping their branches, especially when there is a wind blowing. Some of them can be quite large and have been responsible for crushing the skull of many a soul sheltering below.”

He raised his eyebrows and his mouth curled in to a wry grin.

I clambered up and began dusting off the leaf litter clinging to my jeans in preparation once again to tackle our pointless venture.

I looked at him and said, “I am really very sorry to hear about your wife. I know exactly what you are going through.”

He studied me for a while, smiled, then nodded, “I see. Thank you. In that case, may I offer you my condolences as well?”

Our tour-guide chose that moment to announce that our rest period was over and for us to take note that the clouds over the summit had now completely dispersed, which indeed it had.

© 2005