Mt Hermannsburg with Dad

My father and I sat in the dry river bed of the Finke River painting Mt Hermannsburg which towered above the river gums and spinifex.

Advertisements
Read more "Mt Hermannsburg with Dad"

SALA Special

Settling near a waterhole framed by reeds. Dad built up a fire on the coarse sand while our family friend, TR rolled up his trousers and dipped his toes in the pool. ‘Hey!’ He pointed and did a little dance. ‘A fish! I see a fish!’

Read more "SALA Special"

The T-Team With Mr B (5)

The car neared, and we lifted our right hands up and down. The Indigenous owners of the sedan did the same. Dad tracked the car as it passed us. Then he looked back.
‘Felix! (not his real name),’ Dad said. ‘It’s Felix, I would recognize him anywhere.’ He stopped the Rover in the middle of the road.

Read more "The T-Team With Mr B (5)"

The T-Team With Mr B (4)

Dad pointed at the expanse of red sand dotted with spinifex. ‘This land belongs to the Pitjantjatjara people.’
I sat in the front seat while he negotiated the corrugations, bumps and lumps of the poor excuse of a graded road. Abandoned cars, just shells really, languished in the scrub each side of the road. He waved at the wrecks that were planted in crimson fields of wild hops. ‘They run their cars to the ground. Anyway, normally you need a special permit to go onto their land.’

Read more "The T-Team With Mr B (4)"

The T-Team With Mr B (3)

Mr. B had a sour expression on his face as he sipped his porridge. He finished a mouthful and then remarked, ‘I dare say, ol’ chap, what’s all this running around?’
‘I want us to get to Ernabella today,’ Dad said.
‘Can’t we just take it easy? I’m still adjusting to the inferior sleeping arrangements.’ Mr. B massaged his back as if emphasising the pains that he endured.

Read more "The T-Team With Mr B (3)"