Listen to Keely read her letter here:
Dear Riverland,
My Riverland, you inspire me to write, to dream and to create. A depth of memories unceasing starting with you.
The harsh Summer sun is welcomed. The rustle of leaves from a nearby Bearded Dragon scuttling away. A fisherman sits in a tinny, bankside; rod in hand, net holding a callop in the other. It’s that time of year again, the grape harvesters sing a goodnight lullaby, the smell of sweet grape juice taints the warm summer air.
It’s Autumn now. The vibrant season. The days start to cool and you love to put on a show. All your creations rustle with the wind, the leaves now to flame. Gentle breezes blow, coloured hues of amber and gold. All birds speak softly in the Autumn bush.
With Winter comes your beautiful Wattle blossoms, their honey-like fragrance travels through the surrounding towns. There in the bush, by the river’s side, stars sparkle through the low Mallee branches. The wind, rustles down the dusty, dirt track. Laughter echoes through the quiet night, a nearby camp fire crackles.
Spring has sprung, here you bring blossoms, along with an abundance of new growth. The green foliage of fruit trees etches the beautiful blue sky. That same greenery lines the roads, the creeks and streams. The distant laugh of the Kookaburra travels across river, a Magpie warbles in reply.
All fond memories I hold so dearly. Together I hope we forever, create more.
From Keely
Back to Letters of the Riverland: Meet the Writers.
Part of Things 