Line in the sand

by Rachel Dillon
(Wyndham, WA)

Line in the sand
A line lovingly drawn in the sand. Seagulls dipping, diving, swooping, hunting for a discarded chip. It’s not surprising they like chips – something salty to go with all the fish. Do seagulls even bother to fish anymore? Or do we provide such a guaranteed surplus of waste food that all they need to do is hang around any fast food outlet carpark?
Wow, I could really go some chips right now. Even if I wanted to I could not have deep fried hot potato chips today, or any other day in the next 7 weeks. I am living on a station in the western Australian Kimberley that has two coolrooms and a once a month shopping trip. That shopping trip is often more of a frenzy due to all that has be done “in town” in one day. It can include picking up spare parts for tractors, bull buggys, pumps and vehicles. It might include carefully collecting 20 dozen eggs from the wholesaler. (The 6 station chooks struggle to keep up with dry season demand. This year they’ve gone on strike with only two eggs being produced a day.) And it always requires the purchase of three shopping trolleys full of food.
So we are also quite far from any coastline that is likely to have a line drawn lovingly or otherwise in the sand. Sand around here is likely to be tidal which means it also has a fair percentage of mud in it and is inundated by metres of tidal water twice a day. You are also unlikely to stand on the sand for any length of time drawing your lover a line in the sand due to the risk of crocodile attack.
Lines in the sand – curvy and whimsical, transient and straight, temporarily formed into words. Why do we do it anyway? This habit of creating something ephemeral and impermanent. Are we fascinated having our creation eroded without favour, but with certainty, by nature? By something we can’t control. By something eons older, millenniums wiser than our trivial selves. We watch curiosly to see how long nature will allow us a mark on her skin. If only all our actions on this earth were eroded as quickly as a wave takes away a line in the sand. If only we hadn’t left our mark here with scars and denudation, erosion, pollution, salt, acid, and mountainous piles of rubbish for which only the seagulls are thankfull.
And I still wouldn’t mind some chips…