2013 Green Mountain Yatra – Lamington NP

19 – 25 May, SE-QLD 

Green Mountain – Picnic Rock – Border Track – Binna Burra – Caves Circuit – Egg Rock – Numingbah Valley

Lizzie Turnbull, Ken Golding, Ronny Hickel



hooded shapes
in the lamplight
smoke swirls
sending me inwards
on a journey

into the group
stomach quivers …
from whence cometh
my longing

inside this circle …
strong and solid
welcoming … inclusive

inside its soft
and crumbly heart –
Nothofagus – coppiced
for two thousand years

in a grassy hollow
in Her embrace …
leafdance moon in Libra

day dawns
morning silence
monkey mind
loves the process
of packing up camp

struggling uphill
right hip creaking
careful downhill
left knee wobbling –
how long can I go for

out on the grass
our moon has a halo
vaguely threatening
gerry’s clouding over

deep sharing
in a small group circle
goggled … masked …
a leafblower in our forest

from the cold rain
and the sharing …
drawn into the dance …

to our cottage
cold and wet outside –
a walk threatens

the pappadums round
don’t let
that big box stand there …
and stir the tumeric tea

a night
of mist and cloud and rain
then the sky clears
and the sun rises
over surfers paradise

our shadows
cross the meditation
fused together …
collective darkness

pilgrims in a circle
watching their thoughts
on nineteen TV screens

mindful walking
in ancient rainforest
a shaft of sunlight
through the canopy
OMG I’m missing facebook

I love to go
a dirdle-ing along
a forest track
and as I go
I think about my thoughts

the basic
business of bushwalkers …
get out
of the rainforest
before nightfall

my torn sleeping bag
all these years
is my fabric rotting?

our rainforest dream
comes to an end
a sign says STOP
we divert … descending
into a degraded land

on a steep slippery slope
I’m going downhill
people pass me
it doesn’t matter

weary walkers
silent in a forest glade
whip birds
and drizzling rain
nibbling trailmix … thinking

stay on the track
the sign reminds us
but a glimpse
of prison buidings
hits me in the heart

and honouring
his feet
he’s thirty years younger
I never had a brother

ghosts and echoes
strip the willow
for a hundred years
their dancing feet
vibrate the village hall

mudita …
unbounded joy
pilgrims in the dance …
out there it’s raining

a candle burns
in the dark heart
of the circle
outside there’s sunshine
and squawking cockatoos

last gong …
overtones reverberate
fade away
into no thing ness …
end of a journey


GMY13 Info & Rego.png

Hey Dirdlers

I found today some little notes I wrote to each of you when I got home to recognise the special moments that we shared and that I will take with me. Here they are:

Bunya: laughing over meaningless dhal (which was so meaningFULL, even without rice!). Laughing, again, as the mini bells came crashing down right on cue in Ben Harper’s ‘Another Lonely Day’.

Heke: playing music, music with you. Singing African rain songs in the kitchen. You giving me my strength in the circle on the last night – thank you, creative sister.

Ken: looking into your kind eyes in the mindfulness exercises and loving all the smile lines on your face from a lifetime of caring. Listening to your tree poem. Many fireside chats.

Ronny: sharing the sparkle that was in both our eyes. Music, music. Playing “Please Bleed” and having to finish it, even though the bell had rung three times. Such little rebels.

Lizzie: hugs and so much love in every shared smile. Loving seeing your sympathetic joy and involvement in everyone’s stories and seeing myself in that too.

Gerry: the mental image of you fox-trotting across the Numingbah Hall in your logger’s boots from a previous life will stay with me forever.

Lisa: Cups of tea at O’Reilleys that made me feel welcome in a world that felt alien at that time (gosh, how bizarre 🙂 When we knew eachother much better you put your hand in the middle of my back after I’d cried in the sharing circle and it was such a lovely thing to do.

Damien: handholding mindfully and sharing in that Yatra leap.

Sharon: you swishing your sensuous tail in demonstration by the fireside. Sharing in the almonds moment!

Viv: many lovely silent cups of tea together.

Skye: skinny dipping behind the Numbingbah Hall. And the moment you recognised the full extent of my weirdness.  *These were separate moments, fyi for others.

Lysanne: seeing you light up as you talked about your curiosity. Sharing music with you on the last night as one of the final 6 left standing.

Jo: hearing about your sons and learning about being a daughter.

Naomi: your generosity in sharing your passion with me. I will always keep my eye out for one of those water bottles!

Deb: you were the first fellow Yatri I spoke to after arriving at O’Reilley’s, when I was super nervous. It was a lovely conversation.

Peter: hearing about Indian adventures and watching a hundred white cockatoos take flight.

Suzi: always seeing you ahead on the track, “a little ball of energy” behind Ronny.

Bern: listening to rain during a clear, starry night. Hearing your description of dirdling. The definition has stuck.

As I washed the smoke and earth off me I felt the Yatra spirit stream still bubbling in me. It’s like an underground spring, always there. You all gave me the gift of lightness of being and music and connection.

I love the thought of our Yatra family walking out into the world with one foot on the inner and one on the outer and spreading the Yatra spirit from Bega to the Sunshine Coast and out to Alice.

And so far beyond that in all the ripples we make 🙂

Thank you everyone x