Smell That?

Smell that? That's the smell of the campfires lit by the Longrasser's on the banks of the town's river. Reminds me of dinner camp on mustering days. Horses hobbled and tied to trees. Maybe waiting for the first mob of coacher cattle to come in and the billy's on the boil or maybe it's just lunchtime and everyone is starving enough to hook into yet another corned beef sandwich.
See that? That's a piccaninny sunrise.Someone's ordered concrete early and alot of it across a good distance. Reminds me of a 4am wake up and breakfast of a nosebag for your horse before breakfast for yourself. By the time the sun is emerging you're out in the paddock, horses already saddled, waiting for the cattle, throwing your jacket in the toyota and braving the cold morning wind while fighting for a spot in the small amount of sun.
Smell that? Sitting behind a fully loaded road train of cattle at the lights, poking their heads out over the top deck while kicking out poo onto the road. Reminds me of weaners drafted off their mothers, living in a big yard, getting fat on hay, pellets and copra till they're tailed quiet and branded and ready to leave the yards for their new paddock at the end of a week. The smell of the yard while they're in it, sloppy poo from a sudden change in diet.
See that? Red dirt road that the council hasn't got around to bitumising yet. Reminds me of my driveway home...