Stay Out of the Sun!

Just follow the boundary fence. You’ll come to a dam at the far end. The track we were on yesterday should come off that.

Righteo.

Actually, that briefing proved to be flawed. Expecting the track to loop around the property I found myself at the end of a long ridge, and the end of a long battle with the motorbike. After returning down the gully from the aforementioned stalk I found myself negotiating shale the size of house bricks and  had been thrown off, landing heavily on my rifle (dammit) and being pinned under the bike. It eventually slid off down the hill, engine still running.  Follow the white rabbit»

It’s the Hunt that Counts

“Just follow the boundary fence. You’ll come to a dam at the far end. The track we were on yesterday should come off that.”

“Righteo”.

I fired up the motor bike and headed off, up a track that was less track and more scrub in most places. I puttered along for a few clicks. It’s spectacular country and every now and then the early morning sun caught the Gulf waters in the far distance. Up and down and round about and then I found myself in a creek bed with three kangaroos pulling themselves out of their nest of loose dirt and shifting away through the native pines. Follow the white rabbit»

A Motley Collection

Who are my fellow travellers? An interesting bunch. A family of six aboriginal children who jump and jive, whose twinkle in their eye hint at a suppressed  joie de vivre, at least for the purpose of the trip. A part time goth that looks like she could use a good feed. Part time because her hair is tied up in a gorgeous knot with her black hair undermined by a nice brown wash. But she wears pale makeup and black eyeliner and fingernail polish. Skinny as a rake, she looks like she has rickets. Maybe she has. Follow the white rabbit»

Heading Up Country

I can’t recall the last time I was on a coach. Possibly the Greyhound from Philly to New York a few years ago. Now that was a zoo of a trip… This is far less tense and crowded. The traffic is light and we make it out to the flat northern suburbs quickly, rolling along to the sound of Bruce “the Boss” and Wild thing plus a few other classics.   Follow the white rabbit»

Dead Centre of Adelaide

The sun just coming off the morning horizon is slanting directly down the length of Adelaide’s main streets in one of those movie angles that is supposed to warn us that something prehistoric or alien will be stalking out of the brightness any second now.  But no one is around. Follow the white rabbit»

Tintin and Girls

When I finished primary school I spent the Christmas holidays in breathless anticipation of two things which High School held out for me – an expanded audience of girls and a library. Girls? Go figure why the mind of a twelve year old would seethe so. Follow the white rabbit»

My Bed is a Gift

Last week I was a little startled to hear a pastor (not ours by the way) tell some of his parishioners they had to lie in the beds they had made for themselves. Actually I was very startled. I wonder from where in the Bible he was drawing this? If God worked on the principle of making us lie on the beds of our own making there would be no story of grace. And no story of salvation. No Christmas as we understand and celebrate it. We make a bed of nails for ourselves – daily. That is true. But God does not insist we lie down here. Follow the white rabbit»

A Silk Purse Out of a Sows Ear

A condensed amalgam of a number of conversations on Saturday afternoon…

“Let’s pitch here.”

“Ah, let’s not, if it rains we will get flooded out. Actually, when it rains…”

Follow the white rabbit»

Too Tough For Words

I have no idea how to write this up so I guess I’ll do what you always do when confronted by that challenge – just write. I had avoided calling Ryan’s family figuring they would contact me when they were ready. Turns out they had lost their phone and were worried they had lost touch. For my part I couldn’t wait any longer and called – to the relief of each of us. And it turns out a lot  has happened in the intervening fortnight. Follow the white rabbit»

Aftermath

(Random thoughts, in no particular order). I see daily in the news reports of accidents. Reports of people who die and so I think, “they have it a whole lot worse than anything I have handled”. I wonder who in the crowd handled the person who died on the M5 a few days ago.  Or ponder the guy who pulled a plane crash survivor out of the water off Curl Curl beach. The counselor asked if I had cried. Follow the white rabbit»

Self Diagnosis is a Dodgy Business

What the heck am I doing out here? Instinct drove me out here I think. Bugger all else comes to mind. Some sort of self help intuition that says getting out here might assist. Who knows if it will or not? Its true the extrovert in me recharges by being around others. I am not sure I need recharging though. Some reflection perhaps. Something solitary. Now I m here and the fire is burning my knees and the hair has been singed off my hands as I got it going I am less reflective and more maudlin. Which may well amount to the same thing. Follow the white rabbit»

Eight Saints and a Penis

Last week I sat in a lawyer’s conference room. The décor was clinic white, all the better to show off their art collection, two pieces of which caught my wandering eye (it was a lawyers conference after all and the first rule of listening to lawyers is that you don’t have to listen to lawyers, especially because they build a career based on the assumption that you must). The two pieces were set apart by the folded back dividing wall. A modesty screen of sorts. For the two pieces couldn’t be more diverse. One was a three piece collection of halo ensconced (female I imagined) saints posed in classic orthodox reverence. On the other side of the modesty divider is a large wooden totem from PNG, a full sized painted male figure in full frontal nudity with his penis proudly displayed and his mouth forming a round ‘O’ in apparent surprise. Over the drone of the suit up the front I fancied I heard the following conversation: Follow the white rabbit»

Cheek by Jowl

Follow on from Knot in Stomach

It’s a natural reflex to want to hug someone in distress. I struggled with that response when dealing with the toddler a couple of days ago. His face was so banged up, bruised and bloody and impossible to touch. Yet when someone, especially a child, hurts you want to hug them close. Touch says so much more than words but it was clear I could not touch him other than to brace his neck and head with my left hand. If I wrestled with any emotion in the car it was this one. So much so I even struggled to write that into my larger narrative so left it out and sketched some notes until I had worked out what I wanted to say. And to see if I could capture what I was thinking and feeling. Follow the white rabbit»

Knot in My Stomach

A postscript to “Blood in my Mouth”

It’s the following day and I have walked around with a knot in my stomach, been flippant at work and not very productive in general.  Sorry. In the past I have done a reasonable job of keeping my emotions in check but in this case I have decided to let them wash over me. It makes for some unexpected moments especially when I conjure up the sensation of his little head cupped in my hand, feel his cool skin, and see in front of me his frightened and trusting eyes.  Follow the white rabbit»

Blood In My Mouth

The blood in my mouth is not my own. The dry steel tang of iron was coughed and spluttered into mine by a three year old with brown tousled hair as he sat in his restrainer seat. Thank goodness for those seats. His mouth was clogged with blood and he was spitting it everywhere. He was crying, a good sign. And there was no blood coming from his ears. Another good sign as I ran through an almost subconscious checklist. Follow the white rabbit»