Fire Up
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The night is dark, lit by truck headlights, stars, torches and fires. The dancers are preparing behind the bushy mulga trees. Trained hands trace ancient patterns of ochres on their bodies.
Read MoreFor the sake of the exercise
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I ran hard, and enjoyed the feel of my feet on the ground and the grass. I was pleased with myself, and expected congratulations. But when I finished, one of the adults said, “Somebody has to come last, I suppose”. I could tell it was a bad thing to be that someone and resolved not to do it again.
Read MoreThe Salted Centre
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We had some seriously ill people in the clinic this past summer. They had deteriorated to a critical condition in the fifty degree heat, not because of dehydration but because of a deficiency of sodium — salt.
Read MoreSplendid tiny beauty
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They were sea creatures with never-before-seen limbs, fins and strange appendages, resulting in names such as Anomalocaris, Wiwaxia and Hallucigenia. They hinted at the explosion of possibility during the early days of life on the planet.
Read MoreRadiant Fields
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Being out in the desert at night is a pleasure. Wandering along the sandy path, we enjoyed the spectacle. Dad said, "What would happen if someone was lost in this field at night?" One of the workers said, “There was a pack of dingoes bothering some of the people,” he said.
Read MoreThe Calling
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I’m not on call except for unusual emergencies. I sleep through the everyday emergencies — the heart attacks, obstructed gall bladders and car roll-overs — that my colleagues, the Remote Area Nurses (RANs) deal with at night. This week there are two RANs here with me — for a town at its peak population of around five or six thousand.
Read MoreSprouting Autumn
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My friend gave me her pomegranate tree and lime tree. I’d been dreaming of a pomegranate tree and was well-read about limes. I knew they’d be a good match for our place. I still dream of olive and fig trees. “How many years are you planning to stay here?” asks Claudia.
Read MoreThe Little One Who Left
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The driver asked if we could help. We got out feeling helpless. We had to get closer to see the car, a small crumpled vehicle lying upside down about fifty metres into the stony roadside brush.
Read MoreEat the Camel
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The big beast gets up elegantly with you sitting on it, back legs first, pitching and tilting the rider as you lean back in the saddle. Suddenly you’re up and can see a long way over the desert landscape. A camel’s walk is measured and rhythmic. Being there gives you a lofty and mellow perspective.
Read MoreFly Listening
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I heard about an Aboriginal man in Central Australia whose totem was the fly. I have friends related to the crocodile, a fierce and unpleasant creature, but undeniably powerful. I felt sorry for a man whose totem was a fly. It was such a pest. How could you make a relationship with that insect?
Read MoreEye to eye
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The non-verbal skills of many Anangu people are born of hunting. If you’re looking for someone, you can make a sign for that person across a street or car park. The person you are signalling might use their lips or eyes to point in the appropriate direction.
Read MoreRed Flowers
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“I know not to wear the red, y’know. Where I’m from in Queensland we love to wear it, but I understand the men here don’t want you wear it. So I don’t.”
My first response was to bridle. How could a culture ban a colour? Especially such a powerful and energising colour?
Read MoreArms, Shoulders, Feet
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“We’re med students, Matty. We get every disease we study. I thought I had porphyria last week, only because I’d eaten beetroot.”
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No Such Thing as a Stranger
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My work was at the healing tent. “Your irises are like silk,” an iridologist cooed to an aged woman. “I know how much work it took to do all that healing”. The older woman glowed. I had no idea what they were talking about.
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Lake Ballard Immense
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The figures are distant and, at our first scorching visit, distorted by mirage. Hobbit-sized, but wiry with narrow heads, as if carved into arrow shapes by the wind and salt.
Read MoreA glamorous morning
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A package arrived from India. "I love parcels like this," the postmistress said. Wrapped in cotton, soft as a teddy bear, it had been stitched up, with a dribble of brown wax sealing each end. I could smell textile dressing and dust. The package had travelled from desert to desert — from Rajastan’s yellow sands in India to the deep red earth of Central Australia.
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