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Greener Pastures

from Listen to the Land by Annie Bryant

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lyrics

Greener Pastures
Copyright Annie Bryant 2017

Old Wombat stretched and yawned.
It was a big long loud kind of a yawn and he felt it through every inch of his stumpy little legs, roly poly body and big hard head.
He waddled his way out of his hole and into the fading afternoon light.
He was tired.
Tired of hunting for food.
Tired of digging under all those annoying fences that seemed to keep popping up everywhere.
And really tired of the long and winding waddle he had to make each afternoon, down down down the steep bush track just to get himself a little drink from the creek below.
Each evening, after a big slurp and quick splash just to make sure he was awake he’d ramble off into the night in search of a nice thick tasty root or juicy patch of herbs to munch on.
But tonight as he huffed and puffed his tired little legs down to the creek he could sense something different.
He stopped on 3 paws, cocking his head to one side, letting the cool breeze slide over his shiny black nose.
“Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff,” he sniffed. He could smell someone at the creek.
Making himself as quiet as a big clumsy ball of fur can possibly be, he padded his way down the track until he caught a glimpse of a very large four-legged shape quietly sipping the water.
Now Wombats are not known for their charm at the best of times, but he could see this quite majestic-looking creature might just be worth getting to know, so in his most ‘un-rude’ voice Wombat called out, “Good evening”.
The huge animal froze, its ears pointing straight up and alert, its long legs ready to run, its eyes darting around the forest.
But when she finally saw it was just a little furry creature coming down the track she relaxed and let out a long soft nicker, “hmmmmmmm”, before returning to her somewhat dainty sipping.
Now Wombat was just a little annoyed at this big animal drinking from his creek and not showing any interest in him and so, this time he called out in a slightly less ‘un-rude’ voice, “And who might you be?”
This time the tall and slender neck of the great beast jerked up in surprise and she looked Wombat over before deciding she would reply.
“My name is Crystal. And I live on the farm up the hill.”
“Hmmm,” thought Wombat out loud. “I’ve never met a Crystal before. What kind of animal is that?”
Crystal nickered again, before she realized the stumpy creature was not joking.
“I’m not a Crystal, my name is Crystal, and I’m a horse of course. All horses have their own name. Don’t you have a name?”
“I certainly do,” Wombat replied quickly, “my name is wombat. And I’m a wombat. I don’t think I have any other name.”
“Well where I live,” Crystal replied, “all the animals get a name, as well as their animal name, when we arrive on the farm. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m very thirsty. My trough is broken you see, and the farmer has kindly let me out here to drink at the creek tonight while it’s being fixed.”
Well now Wombat couldn’t believe his ears!
“Do you mean to say that normally someone brings water to you every day?!”
“Yes of course,” Crystal replied, “and food.”
And she explained how each morning she received a nice big tub of fresh juicy lucerne spiced up with all kinds of delicious minerals and grains, before someone she called ‘her owner’ gave her a nice relaxing rub down all over her body with a special brush.
Well this was just too much for Wombat.
“So you’re saying you never have to hunt for your own food, or burrow under hard wire fences or even clean yourself??”
“Hunt? Burrow? What’s that?” asked Crystal, genuinely interested.
And as Wombat talked about those long nights under the full moon, daring escapes from big spotlights on wheels, and the deliciously sweet taste of that rare wild rye grass, Crystal’s eyes opened wider and wider in wonder.
What an exciting life, she thought.
And by the time morning came, she was ready for the freedom and adventures of life in the wild, while old Wombat was more than ready for some paddock pampering.
It seemed like the perfect swap.
Off Crystal galloped down along the creek flat, the wind blowing in her mane and tail, the earth pounding beneath her excited hooves, her head filled with the promise of a thrilling new life.
And as for Wombat, well off he happily bumbled up the creek bank, through the open gate and over to the horse stable, ready for his morning feed and his new name.

That morning, as the sun’s rays slowly crept over the land, life on the farm began to wake up, and Wombat was more than ready for it.
He sat up in the little stable with his two front paws resting excitedly up on the feed bin, eagerly awaiting his first feast and massage.
But when that strange human creature Crystal called ‘the owner’ saw Wombat, she let out a huge scream and dropped the entire bucket of food all over the floor!
Well, this was a little unexpected, very loud and not exactly what Crystal had described, but Wombat was very used to eating off the ground and he quickly set to work, munching away at the pile of green juiciness.
Wombat’s cheeks and mouth were absolutely bulging full of food when he finally stopped his frantic feasting long enough to realize just how disgusting it tasted!
“Yuck!” he cried and spat out huge globs of half chewed green gunk everywhere.
And just at this moment, he noticed another one of those funny human creatures stepping slowly towards him with outstretched arms.
“Aha”, thought Wombat, relaxing at once, “must be time for that nice rub down. I’m sure this will be much better than the food”.
So he spat out the last of that terrible taste and settled into the dirt for a well-deserved massage.
Wombat was so looking forward to this that a tiny little smile even appeared in the corner of mouth as he rolled onto his side into a more comfortable position.
But just at that second, he looked up to see the human pull out a large brown sack from behind his back quickly throwing the whole thing over Wombat’s head and body!
Well, this was quite enough, and with a few rough swings of his sharp long claws, Wombat scratched the sack off him, put his heavy head to the ground, and charged full speed into that rude human, knocking him flat to the ground.
Then with a little satisfied grunt, he turned back towards the creek and bumbled his way back to his hole.
Home at last, he collapsed into the warm familiar dirt, exhausted and extremely annoyed by the whole morning, when he jumped in fright at the deafening sound of heavy hoof beats pounding above his head.
Quite furious now, he poked his heavy head out of the hole just in time to catch a glimpse of Crystal galloping past, long red scratches all over her beautiful fur and twigs and dry leaves tangled and twisted into her dirtied and knotted tail.
“The bush is all yours Wombat”, she called over her shoulder, barely stopping in her rush to return home.
“And the humans are all yours Crystal!” Wombat shouted in return before shuffling his way back into his cosy hole, and finally falling fast asleep.

credits

from Listen to the Land, released May 6, 2017

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Annie Bryant Tales & Songs Byron Bay, Australia

Tales & Songs to nourish young hearts through the seasons of life.

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