Blue Hills (turn to white)
Posted: Fri Feb 21, 2020 9:31 pm
Authors note:
In 1971 I was working on a cattle station in the mountains between Canberra and Cooma.
The hills around the valley were cloaked in a blue haze during the summer, they would then
turn to white, when the winter snows and frosts came to the high country.
Blue Hills (turn to white)
(By Alan McCosker March 2020)
I’ve travelled this country all over, from the top end down to the bight
but there’s not a place quite as beautiful, as where the blue hills turn to white
I wake from my sleep in the mornin’, after a cold silent night
the frost on the ground gets me tinglin’ and the blue hills have turned to white
I rug up the horses to keep ’em warm, spread clean hay for the calves in the barn
then I drain all the pipes in case they freeze up, bring my old dog inside where it’s warm
when the blue hills are covered with a mantle of snow, I stoke up the old log fire
old man winters here but I don’t mind at all, it’s peaceful and warm by the fire
By mornin’ the house is cold and dank, even though there’s a coal in the grate
it’s foggy and freezin’ as I head off to work, icicles hang from the gate
all livin’ things give off great puffs of steam, vapour risin’ up from their breath
my fingers unfeelin’ and my feet icy cold from the hard frozen ground underneath
But by mid mornin’ the winter sun’s high, as I load up baled hay for the cows
the sun on my back is startin’ to burn and sweat starts to bead on my brow
then by mid afternoon the sun starts to sink, behind the white hills to the west
it’s about time to knock off for the day, days are short and night comes on so fast
You can have all your wide open spaces, where there’s not a mountain in sight
and the heat and the flies are constant and the heat carries on through the night
here we have seasons, some summers are hot but winter makes everythin’ right
I wish I could live in these mountains forever, where the blue hills turn to white
all over my homeland australia, I’ve wandered and seen many great sights
but I’ve not seen a place quite as beautiful, as where the blue hills turn to white
In 1971 I was working on a cattle station in the mountains between Canberra and Cooma.
The hills around the valley were cloaked in a blue haze during the summer, they would then
turn to white, when the winter snows and frosts came to the high country.
Blue Hills (turn to white)
(By Alan McCosker March 2020)
I’ve travelled this country all over, from the top end down to the bight
but there’s not a place quite as beautiful, as where the blue hills turn to white
I wake from my sleep in the mornin’, after a cold silent night
the frost on the ground gets me tinglin’ and the blue hills have turned to white
I rug up the horses to keep ’em warm, spread clean hay for the calves in the barn
then I drain all the pipes in case they freeze up, bring my old dog inside where it’s warm
when the blue hills are covered with a mantle of snow, I stoke up the old log fire
old man winters here but I don’t mind at all, it’s peaceful and warm by the fire
By mornin’ the house is cold and dank, even though there’s a coal in the grate
it’s foggy and freezin’ as I head off to work, icicles hang from the gate
all livin’ things give off great puffs of steam, vapour risin’ up from their breath
my fingers unfeelin’ and my feet icy cold from the hard frozen ground underneath
But by mid mornin’ the winter sun’s high, as I load up baled hay for the cows
the sun on my back is startin’ to burn and sweat starts to bead on my brow
then by mid afternoon the sun starts to sink, behind the white hills to the west
it’s about time to knock off for the day, days are short and night comes on so fast
You can have all your wide open spaces, where there’s not a mountain in sight
and the heat and the flies are constant and the heat carries on through the night
here we have seasons, some summers are hot but winter makes everythin’ right
I wish I could live in these mountains forever, where the blue hills turn to white
all over my homeland australia, I’ve wandered and seen many great sights
but I’ve not seen a place quite as beautiful, as where the blue hills turn to white