The Ovens Valley

Heading up to Myrtleford next week for a few days, which I’m looking forward to. It was in the Ovens Valley a few years ago, staying by the Ovens River between Bright and Myrtleford, that I began thinking seriously about the poems of the rivers and river valleys that I became fascinated with for a long time. On my desk I have a hard stone from the bed of the Ovens River; not a smooth pebble, but a hard, quartz-veined object of immense weight and cold. I can’t wait to get back!


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