Marysville

The Steavenson River runs through Marysville in Australia. Once a pretty place, where people visited to rest and recuperate, Marysville was virtually wiped out in the bushfires of 2009 and all that was left appeared as twisted metal and charred wood. Flora and fauna were devastated and the scene projected a silent aura of irreparability.

A local sculptor sat outside his garden gallery. Most of his art lay broken and burnt, the carefully planted garden gone. The small stream continued to gallantly bubble through the ruins. Murky and laden with the results of the fire, it did not falter in its journey as it carried burned debris away to create a path of clearing and healing. In the harsh, brittle aftermath of the fire and the ensuing destruction of life, it continued its journey bringing glints of the sun’s reflections and creating movement in a place that was full of sadness and darkness and mindstopping shock.

When we feel devastated by a harsh reality this stream reminds us that we are not alone. Bit by bit it gently prises open the doors of our psyche and disentangles us from the sludge of pain, sorrow, anger and grief, which slammed them shut. Little by little it assiduously carries our pain to places where it can be dealt with and nourishes shoots of a new future. Connecting source with the ebb and flow of the mighty ocean it unites all on its path reminding us that we are not alone. It soothes, calms and softens traumatised areas, clearing them for regeneration.