(header photographs by Harry Waite 1912-2011)

The Myth of the Sacred Brumby






"into the Blue"
No 7 December 1937

Blue Gum Forest

Song of The Blue Gum Forest


Surrounded by mountains
That o'er shall remain
The wonderful blue gums,
Majestically reign.
The trees are so graceful,
So straight and so tall,
That down on my knees I
Could worshipping fall.
And I'm aching to be in
The forest again
In the soft hush of evening
When day's on the wane,
There 'runs through the forest
A murmuring stream
That laughs as A goes and
So brightly doth gleam.
It chuckles with mirth and
It gurgles with glee
At gaily it flows on
Its way to the sea.
And I'm yearning to list to
‘Its music once more,
Just to sit 'neath the trees where
I'll hear its soft roar.
The trees grow so closely
Together they try
To shut out the sun and.
The blue of the sky,
The light filters down through
The tops of the trees
And flickers about as
They sway in the breeze.
And the blue gums once more
I am longing to see
The grey ghosts of the forest
Are calling to me.
The moon slowly rises,
So clear and so bright,
And floods all the forest
With softest of light.
The silvery moon and
The glow from the fire
Enraptures my soul and
My mind doth inspire.
And I hope that I never
Will feel I'm too old
To sing praise and adore all
Its glories untold.
attrib. Beryl Heather
"Into The Blue" No. 7 December 1937




Flower of our forests - image of splendour,
Majestic creations - might of limb and smooth
Growth ever fierce - valley bound.
Unpreaching ever - hill tops to glimpse.
Plaything of gales - and of zephyrs,
scorning them all - serene - immovable.
Parthenon trunks - flowerlike foliage,
Linking - entwining - amorous ever.
River caressed - sun caressed.
All seasons uniting - yielding strength to endure.
From centuries they came - to centuries they go
Saved - by miracle from Fire!
Any by like miracle from Axe!
To live - to wave - to shelter - to invite
The sons and daughters of generations to come.
Sing ye mighty Roots - invisible
Living muscles of Giants
Gripped deep and tigerish - ever drinking River,
Sensing the lust of Storms - relaxing never.
Sing - ye mighty trunks - ye organ pipes
Silken and smooth.
Ye laugh at Summer blast,
Ye laugh at Wintry teeth.
Colonnades fantastic - when moonbeam touched.
Fit parents for leaf and bough so wondrous.
Sing - ye boughs - ye twigs - ye leaves-
Sing - and dance - and wave - and spin
To every vagrant breeze.
Wonderful green - wonderful trees -
Wonderful Blue Gum Forest.
 Walter Tarr
"The Sydney Bushwalker"
 No. 10 December 1932