There was no Wet Season here in northwestern Australia last year. The rain never came. Last night a cyclone (or hurricane) formed at sea to the north of us. It’s over 600km away and the sky is clear blue this morning.
Read MoreAfter ten days of phone calls not returned and emails unanswered, we realised that some of the people involved in letting the house might dislike gay people.
Read MoreI was ambivalent, but curious, about the UN. It accommodates a bunch of scoundrels, kept in dull sinecure. And there are also terribly earnest people, sincerely looking to make things better.
Read MoreWhat was it like to say goodbye to all the material world you knew, even the land you walked on?
Read MoreOn the third day without showers, locals reminded me that desert people lived without them for longer periods. Water was kept for drinking.
Read MoreWe watch the birds sheltering, clustered on one side of the tree as a dust-storm blows in. It’s the Australian interior in January in the era of Climate Change—way too hot.
Read MoreWe build our selves on an emotional skeleton of passed and dead drama, trauma, healing and learning, if we’re fortunate.
Read MoreUnable to sleep, I went outside, barefoot in the squelching, rain-saturated grass.
Read MoreRopehair began to dream of a garden. At night, when the stars were brilliant, I could feel her happiness as she imagined food growing from the red desert earth.
Read More"I felt something on the top of my head.” Claudia said, “A claw scratching on my skull! I was terrified!"
Read More“The Rock protects itself,” said our Anangu friend. According to him, anyone who did ignorant, disrespectful things to Uluru or Kata Tjuta would suffer mental illness in later years.
Read MoreFar below them the three young men they’d come to rescue were stuck inside an enormous chasm.
Read MoreI watched her breathing for three or four hours, checking her pulse, alert to any grimace or gasp.
Read MoreThey are playing that slow-baked game called cricket — the pace of which accommodates inebriation and lethargy so well.
Read MoreMassive storm clouds had been gathering and the long-distance fragrances of hundreds of different desert flowers curled itself around petrichor – the perfume of rain on dusty rock.
Read MoreWhy wouldn’t you want to have your breasts tenderly and thoughtfully painted with ochre for inma (ceremonial dancing)? And feel a connection between your breasts and the earth around you? Our bodies all come from our mothers’ bodies and breasts and the earth is our continuing mother.
Read MoreIf a ball of lava is coming towards you, you focus on it and watch its trajectory, then move sideways, that is, not down the mountain or into the volcano, so that you can avoid it. I have missed catching so many balls in my life that I figured I’d be fine.
Read MoreThere are six seasons here. Unlike other places, where winter is a time of dormancy, it’s a time of energy and growth here. In Nyinnga people can exercise: walking is a pleasure and sleeping is easy.
Read MoreSome of the Aboriginal babies she cared for were thin and irritable, with watery diarrhoea and scalded nappy rashes. They were diagnosed with Failure to Thrive — a diagnosis which puts a child’s parenting directly under the spotlight. Their mothers seemed powerless. Health workers wondered what was going on in these babies’ homes?
But Christine wondered if it could be something else.
Claudia and I've become fond of the trees of our town. So we were both angry to be woken early by the sneer of chainsaws. Through the bedroom curtains, we saw a man hanging from a tree, sawing the very branch he stood on.
Read MoreSlot Canyon photograph in banner by Sebastian Boguszewicz
Creative Writing by Dr. Janelle Trees
Photo: Claudia Jocher
I'm a doctor of Aboriginal descent living and travelling with my photographer wife, Claudia. I see myself as a bridge between 'races' and cultures, gay and straight, the child and the crone, arts and sciences. I am inspired by Nature, including humans in all our splendid individuality.
Sign up to get the latest posts from this blog delivered right to your email inbox.
