The Marree pub

The outback resonates, a pulse of rawness that scours through this soft urban heart, teaching it how to love anew. This heart that flirts with readily available technology, that preens itself coquettishly in front of the non-stop headlong tilt of the cosmopolitan schedule, that pounds lasciviously at the mere premise of tethering – this heart? She is learning…

Bright dirt, the colour of blood  sifts through everything, a miasma choking us with the harsh reality of life back o’Bourke. Staining us with its rusty reminder, the environment slams us with its all-consuming power. Swathed in blankets, smoked by eucalypt fires, numb toes, scorched hair, peeling lips and lost to the world of wi-fi, we exist in an alternate reality. The light is our clock, the sun and fire our heat, Black Mary our beast of burden and cold beer sweet relief.

Ice-cold, boiled alive, caked in dirt, tangled, tired and torn, I have never felt so alive.

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