Soul Scrubbing Across The Nullarbor. Nullarbor Desert, Australia
We have crossed the Nullarbor.
Like a dangerous dog it lay curled in my imagination. Now it stirred, shivered. It bared its teeth, licked its long, black tongue, then slept again. My presence didn’t disturb it, yet its bewitched me.
With open hearts and eyes we eased west into long distance. Penong saw the last store for a thousand kilometres; how far is that? How long-sighted is my imagination?
Two hundred on, at Nundroo, settlers abandoned bush-clearing. In the wilderness beyond, Yalata lands, silken shrubs, fanned trees shivering, quivering.&...