Her murky brown waters have been a constant in my life. It’s said that her waters are infested with bull sharks and that swimming in them is just asking for trouble so I’ve never dared. But despite her colour and ill-repute, I love this lazy brown river that meanders past the places I have long called home. She’s the southern boundary of the lands to which my soul is bound and her northern flood plains are the place where I am at peace.
As I sit on a pontoon along the river eating breakfast, I realise that I will soon be saying goodbye to my country. But I also know that I will one day return, even if just to visit because the call of the paperbark swamps and muddy waters will be too great for me to be forever gone. I wasn’t born here in this land girt by sea, but the lands between the northern side of the Logan River and the Bay will always have a special call. And that’s a wonderful thing to know.