Billabong, outback Kimberley region, Western Australia
I thought it was somewhat ironic the picture I was drawn to for this post is that of a billabong in harsh country, so far away from the manicured lawns and gardens in the city.
The Kimberley region in Western Australia is north of Perth and vast, hugely vast. I’ve visited many times to towns and also indigenous communities, for work. I have also holidayed there frequently when I visited a friend in Broome but never ventured to the true outback.
This is remote, harsh country in East Kimberley. The dust is red and the foliage a beautiful green. The billabongs are magnificent and lush. I sat with a group of strangers, all writers from around Australia, at this billabong for a writing exercise. The memory makes me shiver with warmth. There were blue dragon flies that buzzed around me. The purple water lilies shimmered in the heat. It was one of the most memorable peaceful moments I have experienced. The water looked so tempting. This is saltwater crocodile country and this billabong may have been safe … but we did not take any chances.
I know I’ll return one day.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Saturday: Verdant
The Big Croc is the first thing you see as you enter the small town of less than 800 people. To quote the late Steve, Crikey! How did I miss this! It is so huge I couldn’t get the whole sculpture in the frame. 
Being off season, there was nothing open. The supermarket, too, shut early. Someone told us about a bakery, just down the road, they said. We soon saw the sign. We knew immediately, we were far from home.
This was outdoors on the way to the loo! Yes this is crocodile country, as if one could forget. There are reminders everywhere.
One of the things I wanted to show my travelling companion was the view from the Five Rivers Lookout. Because I had been here during the day, I was yearning to see it at sunset, too. I knew it would be amazing. The road up the the lookout, which is around 330 metres above sea level and the highest point of the town, is narrow and winding. The views across the mud flats, stunning. I’m surprised there are not more accidents as people peer over the edge.
We were taking in the sheer expanse of country where the rivers Ord, Pentecost, King, Durack and Forrest join forces to meld into the Cambridge Gulf. The waters must be teeming with crocs. There was an abattoir here once. The crocs remember this. They often hang around the jetty, although the abattoir closed its doors in the mid 1980s. We were taking in the views when I saw them. I could not believe my eyes. A tiny rock wallaby seated high above the town. Can you spot it on the rock between the two trees, just above the 2 in the date?
They were part of a small group, some as tiny as a cat. 
Their coats looked soft and fluffy with beautiful markings. Their feet dipped in dark chocolate.
The eyes large and luminous.
Look at that pose!
They were nimble among the high rocks and perfectly comfortable in our company.
One even sat facing us. Our delight, the evening’s entertainment, it would seem!
Soon it was sunset. The sun slipped away beyond the five rivers. 
A red disc dazzled in the darkened sky. It was time to leave.
The cabins were fantastic. Clean and high among the tree canopy. It was reasonably secure and no geckos indoors! The place is so isolated. The managers told us they never lock anything here so I threw caution to the winds and slept with the door unlocked.
I woke early, too early, and headed to the walkway. The billabong was alive with birds and wildlife.
In this harsh landscape the green in trees was vivid.
As was the jewel like emerald green in the tree ants.
I’m not sure what this bird was. Researching it online it seems similar to the Asian Koel. But in the Kimberley? I’m not sure. It was black and navy blue with ruby eyes.
How’s this for perfect mirror image!
In this harsh landscape I found the most delicate jasmine like flowers on vines that entwined over the walkway.
Below me, a lone wallaby. I watched it nervously, hoping the resident saltwater crocodile was having a snooze.
I learnt later, this species is called ‘Pretty Face’ wallaby. It has delicate shading and a white stripe across the jawline.
This bird was magnificent! Some kind of pheasant I think.
The double barred finches swarmed water side.
As did the gouldian finches. Their colours were less vivid than the ones I’ve seen before.
Some had banana yellow beaks.
At first I thought the tree was shedding leaves!
I was in the outback, far north, staying at a cattle station just before the mustering began.
Standing by the corral at dawn, I didn’t notice him while he worked, so entranced was I, by it all. 
But when he stood patiently waiting for toast to turn brown, sipping billy tea from a tin mug, “g’day” escaping from the corner of his mouth, he caught my eye. 
He had an aura. It was how he worked the horses, that made him unique.
He sat down slowly, as if in pain, guitar cradled in his lap, a beer clenched in a calloused fist. His feet were bare, untouched by the sun they glowed infant pink. His arms were also bare, nut brown and muscled from reining in, a black bandana around his head, adding colour. He took a thirsty swig, leaned over and placed the bottle on the grass in the space that separated us.
He travels the world, searching for the horse that no one can ride. For him, life and love, is that simple.
A Shared Space 
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