This boab tree stands solitary at Town Beach in Broome, in the far north of Western Australia. It is a place I love to visit. I enjoy it better, on my own. It is possibly the only place in Western Australia where I can totally zone out and forget everything else. My mind and body needs this, from time to time, so I visit here as often as I can.
I love coming to Town Beach for the sunrise over Roebuck Bay. As it is usually hot and humid in Broome, it is always a battle to keep the lens clear as one is instantly blinded by humidity clouding it.
Other people come here too but stand facing the Bay, waiting for the rays to burst through. Once the drama is over, they turn their backs and walk away.
The boab tree grows slowly. Some are ancient, hundreds of years old. There is a certain something about it that is irresistible. Some people are drawn to them, including me.
I have a colleague who never walks away from a boab tree without touching it silently. The interaction looks so respectful, almost sacred, I tend to avert my eyes, to give her privacy.
This tree is young. The girth is slender. A youthful tree. Perhaps, full of hope rather than wisdom. I often think it needs a warning sign displayed for all to see. “Touch it! And, your life will change!”
It did for me.
Until next time
a dawn bird