That green patch

Australia. Victoria.
Ferry back to Gippsland.
Aircraft Fletcher FU24.
Mid 1960.
Half way across Victoria,

I'm on a Southerly heading,climbing through 2,500 feet going to 4,000 feet to pass over the Grampian mountain range, they separate the wheat country to the north from the foothills of Gippsland (Dairy country) to the South and the sea.

This country is very familiar to me, as I have fertilised and sprayed weeds and insects on both sides of the mountains and when required Firebombed in the mountains.

It's a nice clear day so typical of late summer.
I'm scanning left to right to see if I can recognise any of the farms I fertilised last season. and to see if any mistakes I made were visible.
I saw a deep green patch?
It looked like potatoes? A bit strange, as all the country around is burnt brown, by the summer sun.

I would have had a closer look, but it was a bit far away and I wanted to get back to my base at Leongatha.
I was nosey OK, but not that nosey! and it was Friday! we always met at the local boozer and made a night of it.
So I forgot about the green patch for now.

A couple of weeks later I was walking down Swanson Street in Melbourne and met the farmer who owned that property, where I saw the dark green patch.
After a bit of a boisterous meeting, I invited him into the boozer for a drink.
I just couldn't wait to raise the subject of the green patch?
I thought he had planted potatoes at the wrong time and place,
Well ? that was the gossip?

At first he wasn't very forthcoming with any story? said "he knew nothing about it!  wasn't on his property!"  In fact he was getting a bit stroppy about it.

Anyway as the night went on and under a little pressure from me, he told me the story.

My big mouth

I know my memories create my ghost and send them chasing after me, down through time.
For all the things I did or didn't do, things I said or didn't say.
I never looked behind me,
I just kept going.

Now I'm getting old and slowing down. The truth is! I'm almost stopped.

Now my ghosts catch up with me more easily and when I'm alone they visit me.
To remind me of  what I did or didn't do with my life.

I'll be sitting alone.
I don't know what triggers these visits.
I try to turn away to avoid them, 

But No !  
A face will appear in my minds eye. Its that girl assistant from the chemist shop, from all those years ago.
She is nice and very pleasant and serves me all over again, I pick up my change  and say to her again!
" you should get something for your spotty face" and walk out of the shop.

On reflection I could have? in fact I should have! laid this ghost to rest by going to see her and apologising with flowers.
But I didn't, I just kept running on with my life, never looking back until now.

It's the hurt expression on her face that visits me. I'm such a dork!

luckily I now can and  must add an adjustment to this tale!

A few days after writing this wee memory, I received an e-mail from a dear friend of mine in Melbourne Australia.

She said "she thought the girl in the chemist shop, was her sister".
After a few more e-mails, I received the following e-mail.

"Yes it was my sister? the chemist overheard you embarrass my sister! so he organised her a cure.
So really you did her a favour, in an unkind way"?

I have always been one to look at life as a flow of opportunities, not to be missed.
Here I've been given the chance to right a wrong that I did? A very rare chance indeed? after such a long time.

So with that in mind?

Fay.
I am very sorry for the hurtful and thoughtless remarks I made to you that day.

Please forgive me? Terry.

I'm sorry I'm such a fool, please forgive me for being  thoughtless and cruel,

Agman.