Tracy’s Drive

“Nature is not a place to visit. It is home”

This is a story about a woman, a drive and a landscape filled with a thousand miracles. It is set on a stretch of road that meanders its way across a winding range from Curramore to Maleny, on the Sunshine Coast. It is here, in her old Landcruiser with its tough steering and peeling paint, the woman rattles across the familiar bitumen that she has never tired of for over fifty years.

Tracy makes her drive several times a week. Whether it be for singing practice, church, groceries or to meet up with family and friends, she has never once taken her trip to town for granted. “It makes me feel incredibly grateful. Privileged to witness all that I do”. She marvels at the smallest of things and wonders like a mesmerised child, at the workings of nature so many might often overlook.

One miracle that captures her attention is that of the old familiar dairy where many a passing involves the occasional cattle or two ambling across the path of her cruiser. The farmer in his tall rubber boots hurries them across, squinting and waving in the early morning light. Often they are being moved into a paddock privy to views of valleys submerged in rolling fog or mountain peaks glistening in fresh light. Once she even sat absorbed as two bulls tussled frantically and she smiled in the knowledge that right then, in that very moment there was no one else but her to see all that she could see.

And indeed she sees plenty. She savours the beauty of the landscape that cradles her drive. There are hues in the sky that transform morning and night, the dark silhouettes of old pines, and the camellias and aloes that burst full of colour on fence lines and cultivated garden beds. Occasionally when rainbows spread themselves across the valley, her ultimate joy is complete.

Sometimes Tracy is drawn to the architecture and warmth of an old farm house. It rests on the edge of a mountain top, protected by a huge fig tree. Its leadlight window and rustic charm take her back to her own childhood, a time of adventure, imagination and of helping her father feed the cows pollard through a barbed wire fence. Every so often the front door is left wide open and she cranes her neck, desperate for a peek inside as her ute lurches forward.

Other times it is the wildlife she looks for; a fusion of finches, wrens, eagles, snakes and owls that weave in and out of her vision. Once she spotted a flutter of movement on a fence and pulled over to find a baby feathertail glider trapped and distressed. Racing back home she fetched her husband and together the two of them carefully untangled it and snipped it free. “It was the cutest, albeit most vicious little creature we’d ever rescued.”

That little feathertail glider was not the only one to be rescued, as one day Tracy found herself donned in tiny heels standing on the side of her beloved road with a most untimely flat tyre, and desperate for help. Alone and without a mobile phone, she couldn’t believe her luck when a young lady pulled over to offer her assistance. Not only did she reassure her but she swiftly began changing the tyre for fear of Tracy damaging her pretty heels! “Sadly, I can’t remember her name,” she says, “but I’ve been looking for ways to pass on her random act of kindness. Perhaps my drive will offer me up a chance. I’ve only got to keep looking.”

Looking, she does. She often sees at dusk an elderly couple who station themselves close to their dairy cows as they graze on the edge of the road. Chewing on green grass behind a makeshift electric fence, the small herd nourish themselves. Their creamy milk is in production to make Maleny cheese. Their owners watch them proudly. If it’s hot, the couple are there. If it’s raining, the couple are there. If it’s dark or foggy or cold, the couple are always there. And as Tracy drives by, they wave and she admires their dedication to their animals, their place, and their passion.

It appears that this drive is never short of miracles. It hosts a spectacle of beauty; the fearless abandonment of nature to do and be as it pleases. Perhaps Tracy’s place of passion, this drive of delights offers her the same invitation – to take this road for its journey, to be herself and to simply forget for a while about the eventual destination that ultimately awaits her, and us all.