An August Morning At Upper Gully

The smoke from the chimneys curled down in the sky And it's colder and wetter than 'twas in July And fog o'er the forest a blanket of gray And darkening rain clouds more showers on the way. The currawongs calling the dark birds of rain And into the station roars the city bound train And cars on the highway racing to and fro And down the high woodlands the chilly winds blow. At 7 a.m. and the temperatures low And it's cold in upper Gully cold enough to snow Yet on this bleak morning great beauty i see Bright yellow flowers blooming on the wattle tree. Their loud cackling laughter one could not mistake And they call through the morning just after daybreak On the higher branches of old mountain gray The kookaburras herald a cold Winter's day. Three weeks left in August and Spring is so near On this perhaps the coldest day of the year And dark rain clouds gather in bleak morning sky And it's colder and wetter than 'twas in July.