The Art of Partnership

"See nana, look how how I'm carving him out. With the axe. Alatjti. You watch me"
Wood chips are flying from the piece of River Red Gum Billy Cooley is carving. And I watch, totally inspired.

To most, this looks like an ordinary branch. But what Billy and his wife Lulu can do with this branch results in something quite extraordinary and beautiful.

Maruku has been asked to provide carved piti bowls to the WA Department of State Development. The bowls are being given as gifts at the World Expo in Shanghai.

Our artists, not shy of a challenge, have been out sourcing the appropriate punu to begin carving bowls. Billy and Lulu are two of them. And, they are currently in residence at Maruku's Artist Headquarters. Ben recently took them out - a place between Amata and Mulga Park across trackless desert in a dried out river bed. They returned - just - after having spiked two tyres! Thankfully, they travelled with 2 spares!

Watching Billy and Lulu work is mezmerising, and, inspiring. That husband and wife, can work and live together - all day - everyday, is such a beautiful thing to see. One doesn't go anywhere without the other. They truly are "one".

Together, they craft wood. Billy splitting them, and carving out the red core with an axe, he hands what is beginning to look like a piti bowl to Lulu. Lulu rasps and smoothes them then sands them down while Billy starts the next one.

Once finished, they are ready for the walka – Lulu has a signature, distinct design that she burns into the outside of the bowl with red hot wire which has been sitting in the hot coals of a fire.

“We work together, see.” Billy says smiling. “I do this one, nana cleans him up”
And they do. They work together, complimenting one another, checking and finishing each others’ work. The art of partnership resulting in something so exquisite and perfect

Steamy Centre

I'm flying down the road, CD blaring and I'm singing along to Madonna's "Material Girl" at the top of my lungs as I look at Uluru outside the window. The bush version of an 80's party in my Maruku van.

The rain has now cleared, grey clouds float above the Rock but are moving east. It's steamy as the moisture rises from the earth. Big puddle! Minga! (Direct translation: ant. The locals call tourists mingas because they look like ants when they climb Uluru). I can do 1 of 2 things.

Swerve and miss it, or, drive straight through it and saturate this poor bastard!
SPLASH! I know karma will get me for it, but I figured, that was their karma if they climbed!! Not the nicest thing I've done (nor the nastiest for that matter!) but it was a great story to tell the old women, and, a story for the minga to take back with him!

Further along, I could see something on the road, raised, a reddish brown colour. "Aah" I thought. "Ngiyari" - Thorny Devil. A very ferocious looking reptile, which, in actual fact, is slow moving and very gentle when handled. They are an adorably delightful little creature who become disoriented if you pick them up then put them down in the opposite direction that they were heading! I'm notorious for pulling over several times on the road, chucking a u'ie and picking the little critters up off the road and propping in the scrub.

That's the beautiful thing about Australia's Red Centre. The phenomenon of the weather - heavy rain and then extreme heat, brings different creatures out in various stages. So at the moment, Thorny Devils are out and about, Centipedes are causing havoc, and the frogs, well, they've come out from underground and their crazy mating frenzy and are hopping about all over the place!

Yesterday, Australia's central landscape was silver and wet, today, the wildlife are roaming and she's red.

Desert Girl Friday - A Day in the Life of - Part 2

I've just swapped my Landcruiser for the mini bus and I'm outside the Maruku Artist HQ donga's. I let go of the idea of cleaning my floors. I'd vaccumed them and figured I'd mop them that night!

Beep, beep! "Yo! C'mon you mob!"
And like lemmings, all seven Cooley's filed toward the car through the rain. It was 4in the afternoon and we were heading for the town supermarket - IGA Yulara! Nothing too hard and I was sure it would be an easy experience that wouldn't take any more than an hour.

I find myself comparing fabric softeners. Yes, I know, fabric softeners! Moving out of home has been the cause of me doing many a crazy things - like - worrying about the state of my floors!

"Hello malpa girl"
"I know that voice. Hey Aunty Alison"
Chit chat, chit chat, chit chat and a conversation about sugar soap!
"Don't go until I leave to make sure my car starts"
"Oowa palya, no worries"

The Cooley clan are ready to go, it's 5.30 and the kids are tired and hungry. Alison moves slowly and innocently forgets there are people waiting for her!
She hops in, turns the key - nothing. Dead.

"Ah sh*t" I'm thinking. Ben told me not to use the mini bus to jump start a diesel because it would bugger up the electrics, and, that Delica I was driving had a motor with very little power.
However, when you're travelling with blackfellas, you do a lot of things with cars that you're not meant to. Using a flour drum as a seat, filling a tyre tube with pillows and blankets when there's no spare, using a tree branch as an axle when you break one, and using a spanna to steer without a steering wheel are just a few.

So, I drove over and went through the whole process again. Nothing.
"Rev it up dear" She called out.
"I'm up to 5 revs and in the red - I'm gonna blow the motor!"
Billy is playing around under the bonnet while all this is happening.
"This car hasn't got enough power. You need a Toyota or something big to get it going"

We looked in the car park which was full of hire cars - Camrys.
We are then approached by 2 teachers from the college and a channel 9 reporter.
"We've got a Landrover. That should start it. I'll bring it over"
"Bloody English rubbish" Billy whispers to me.
He pops the bonnet. Everything is backwards. Inside and out!
"Battery wiya?" Asked Alison
No-one could find a battery
"It should be under the seat" Billy tried to tell them.
"Nah" said the bloke who was driving it said. "Nothing under the seat"
He hadn't even looked. So, here we are now 10 of us, in the rain, looking for a battery in this bloody Landrover!

"Let's drop this mob and their shopping home, we'll grab the other Landcruiser and we'll drive back and start him up again. Palya?" I asked Alison.
"Yes, ok dear. But look how I parked. You mob will have to push me out and push me back in so I can straighten up"

I take my hat off to anyone who has pushed a Toyota Landcruiser in the rain! It's hard work! We straightened it up and were on our way (again).
We didn't get very far. Of course they all wanted to stop at the service station for litres of chocolate milk, copious amounts of Coke, M&M's, fried chicken and pies. Alison and I sat in the front dry reaching the whole way out to the community!

We arrive back, drop the clan off, swap cars and I put my groceries away. I open the fridge and I am beside myself. Clearly Ben had run out of room in his fridge and thought he'd use my space to house some rabbits he'd shot! They'd not been skinned or gutted. I grabbed the bag and they went flying out the door!

"Alatji! Ok, lets go!"
By now it's almost 8pm. The rain had become heavier and I was exhausted.
We were back in the same spot as I pulled up next to Alisons car. She's fumbling around in the dark looking for something - car keys.
I love her dearly, but she can be so slow.

"Here, give me your handbag, I'll have a look" I told her.
Nothing.
"Are they in your pocket?" I asked her
"Wiya nothing"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, look"
"What about your bra?"
"I don't put things in my bra"
"Just check your bra"
"No. Nothing"
"Wait, I'll go and check the ignition" I said
Nothing.
I was grumpy, wet, and tired.
"Let me check your bag again"
Nothing.

"What did you do with them? Where did you put them?"
"I had them in the bus. I put them on the dash board. I must have left them there"
When I was 18, a wise woman named Karen told me "patience is a virtue". I held this thought.

"Ben might bring it out ey?" She asked me
"He's been out bush and he's worked today. He's stuffed"
I ring him. "Hello sweetheart. The dogs said thanks for the rabbits, but that's not why I'm ringing you. Can you please go and check the dash of the bus for Alisons car keys. It's a single Toyota key on a long plaited leather strap?"
"I'll call you back" He sounded buggered.
"I've checked the dash, the glovebox, the floor, under the seats and on the ground. Can't see a key" He told us.
"F*%#%!" was the most appropriate word I could come up with!
"Did she leave 'em in the ignition?"
"No, I checked"
"Are they on the ground where she's parked?"
"No, I checked"
"Are they on the ground where you were parked earlier?" Ben asked me
"Why would they be there?" My patience now wearing thin.
"Go and check"
"Ok" and I went through the rain to where I had parked earlier. I looked down, and sure enough there they were in a puddle!
"I would have found them!" I told him
"What were you saying about my rabbits?"
"Nothing. Gotta go. Bye!"

After another half hour of clamping jump leads and several attempts of revving and starting, we got it going again.
I followed her home to ensure she got back and out I headed back to the community. Third time that day.
It was approaching midnight and I'd wondered where my Saturday had gone?!

Desert Girl Friday - A Day in the Life of - Part 1

It's Saturday, raining, and I'm wondering how my washing is going to dry. I like to contemplate some of the worlds biggest problems!

I'm conducting my routine, ritualistic Saturday task. HOUSEWORK! I cannot enjoy my weekend until I know that this has been done. Oils are burning, the scent of satya sai baba incense lingers, and the mellowing sound of Tori Amos gets me into 'the space'.

I've dusted, de-webbed, sterilsed and disinfected. I have the floors to go. Then the phone rings. The first person who comes to mind is my mother. "I won't answer it" I think to myself. She rarely rings. "What if it's urgent"?
"Hello?"
"Malpa girl"
"Hi Aunty Alison, nyunta palya?"
"Nyaba? What you doin dear?"
"I'm doing housework. You know what I do on Saturdays! What's up?"
"You clean too much. Work too much. You need to rest."
"Rest? What rest? When rest? What are you doing?"
"We went to Umbiara for punu and tjala. Car won't start. We stuck out here. Can you or Ben come out. Pleeease?"
"Of course I'll come out. Ben's gone shooting. Where at Umbiara are you?"
"Nganatja. (Here) you know that place?"
"No, I don't know 'that' place, I need you to be specific."
"Near the homelands. Just follow my tracks. We on the left hand side of the big washout where the creek bed is"
"What's wrong with it?"
"Won't start. Motor won't turn over. Battery is flat malpa. I got some jump leads. But bring a tow rope incase" I looked at my floors as I listened to Aunty Alison.

Could you begin to imagine what I am thinking by this stage! Umbiara is about 1 hour out of town down a dirt track in the direction of Lake Amadeus and forms part of the Katiti Land Trust. There is nothing more confronting than having to travel out to find someone and not know exactly where they are. Thankfully, my sense of direction has become quite polished and the old people have taught me to track, so, I felt fairly comfortable going out.

After so much rain, the condition of the road had deteriorated. To avoid getting bogged, I had to leave the road and drive cross country! Yee ha! And camels! Even better!
To avoid getting lost and missing the tracks, I got back onto the road and hit a flooded washout. Ciggarette hanging out of my mouth, windows open - SPLAAAASH! Red mud covers the car, windscreen, and, me! The wipers screech as I clear to see and the tyres on the left hand side leave the ground. BANG! The tyres on the right hand side are in the air and the ones on the left are back on the ground! THUD! All tyres are back on the ground. There was a "near roll" experience!! Because of course I needed to check the box called "4WD'ng on a Saturday!"
Driving along, more camels! They can smell the pools of water!
I could sense I was getting closer and I began to hear Alison speaking and guiding me. There they were, tyre tracks. I followed them through the thick scrub of mulga, maku bush, spinifex and desert oaks, continuing along side the creek bed until they were in sight.
The smell of singed kangaroo tail fur floated towards me and the sound of axes hitting bits of bloodwood that the women had collected earlier being carried on the wind. Four of my nanas and Aunty Alison sitting around a fire.
"Heeeeeeey! Kungka warra wiru pulka, mulapa!" They all sang. (Direct Translation: Truly a beautiful young woman!) Hmmm...?

"Siddown. The billy is on. I'll make cuppa tea. Want some wipu and damper?" (wipu, or malu wipu is kangaroo tail)
Unsure as to whether I was in the mood for malu wipu, I decided I'd settle for Aunty Alisons most delicious fluffy damper and a cup of billy tea.
After about 15 minutes, I was ready to get this car started and get going.
"Palya? Let's start him up"
"Wiya" Said nana Barbara as well as a whole lot of other things in Pitatjantjara.
"Nana said you gotta sit and rest for a little while"
"I have stuff to do" I told them. "I have to finish at home and then take Billy mob shopping"
But they were adamant. They shared their concern and asked thatbI just sit.
So, there I sat on a tarp by this creekbed, red muddy earth beneath and the women sang.
As the old women sang, one of them came over to me and began working with me energetically. I can't share too much, but after a very emotional release, and the most divine healing of hands, I felt light and calm. They had been so right. I really did just need to sit still.

"Ok malpa. Red on red, black on black" Aunty Alison told me over my shoulder.
"I know, I know" As I clasped the jump leads to the batteries
We started our cars.
"Rev him up" I called out
Both Toyotos revved loudly through the desert and the overpowering stench of deisel fumes overcame us. After a few attempts, Alison's car was ready to go.
We drove out in convoy and I was heading home.

All I could think of were my floors......

Rich, Abundant, Exquisite

It's 8.30pm and I'm on my verandah having a ciggarette. The rain hits the tin roof like pellets and a spinifex hopping mouse jumps past and dives into the grass. I'm reflecting on my day today....

Billy and Lulu are artists in residence again, and as usual, Ben and I are excited to have them around.

Beep, beep! "Hey, you mob ready" I call out loud enough so they can hear me through the rain.
Out emerge Billy and Lulu. "Morning. We ready"
Behind them, their daughters; Marlene and Jainie. Following them, Catherine, 11, Sarissa, 5, and Kevin, 3.
Cooley Tjuta! (Lots of Cooley's)

We were off to the Tourist Visitors Centre in Yulara. A museum of all the flora and fauna of the Central Desert. Here, you get to see all the real stuffed animals that are found in the desert. Papa inura (dingoes) malu (red kangaroo) kipara (bush turkey) mala (rock wallaby), liru (snakes), tinka (lizards), ngintaka (perentie), as well as, eagles, owls, every sort of mouse, snake, bug, scorpian, centerpeid - you name it, they've got it!

First though.. "hey, you mob seen where my wati has gone?
"yeh nanna, his Toyota went that way" and Billy pointed into the scrub.
"Let's go and find him" Catherine called.
I started to drive into the scrub.
"Hey, there he is!"
"Where, how can you see?" I asked
"I can see through the dark too" she leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
Sure enough, as we got closer, there was Bens ute. He walked over, wet, and looking adorable in his worn akubra hat. What a cowboy!
On closer inspection, right in front of me, there was a rabbit, tied to the tray of his ute. He was skinning and gutting the rabbits he'd shot the previous night! Clearly there were more than the ones he'd left in my fridge! He wandered over, knife in one hand, the other, bloody and covered in fur!
"Get away!, Yuk!" I screamed
I wasn't hanging around, I started the car and began to reverse out.
"Hey Ben, save one for me" Billy called out the window.
"No worries, I've already got one aside. Might cook him at Vics!"
"No you bloody won't! We're goin' for a Sunday drive. Catch ya after!"
And we were off!

Three kids, screaming, running around wildly and having a hoot of a time! It was fantastic! Later, I found out they'd had Coke and lollies for breakfast! That would do it!

With the usual trip home via the service station for a variety of fried foods, we were heading home.... Then, we approached the Kata-Tjuta turn off.
"wanna go for a ride" I asked
"Oowa!"
So, I hung a right and we were travelling in the direction of Docker River and Kata Tjuta.

Billy was travelling in the front seat and was describing what the country we were travelling through was like 20 years ago. He described the old roads, old camp grounds and showed me where he used to grade roads. Billy is unconditionally generous with his knowledge, stories and tjukurpa.

"Camula! Camula! Camula!" All the kids cried from the back, giggling so sweetly, the car was instantly filled with love and the innocence of children. So, we stopped for a moment, said hello to the herd of camels and proceeded to drive through pouring rain.

We arrived at Walpa Gorge, Kata Tjuta. One of my favourite places.

"This is wati ngura here" Billy told us. Mans place. Traditional owners aren't strict on this, and, tourists are able to visit freely. Apparently locals should know better, but, the old women have told me its ok. "We go there too kungka" they always whisper to me. "Maku tjuta there". Lot's of witchetty grubs they reckon!

It's pouring, kids are running up the rocky paths, barefoot, splashing in the little rockpools on the way, and I, leave the track and head down into the valley on the left with Billy. Creeks are running, waterholes are full, and the mala are abundant.

Down in the waterholes, ngangi (frogs) are hopping around and croaking and I feel like I am in Wonderland. Land, so rich, abundant, bursting with all the nutrients my soul needs. We sat by that waterhole in silence and it felt like the whole world had stopped, apart from that waterhole. In that moment, we were at the heart of the earth - in rhythm with its pulse. The water flowing into the creeks was the blood flowing through the planets veins. In that moment, I was reminded of the extraordinariness of our planet, of our country, and, of my opportunity to be so close to these amazing places where I get to share it with traditional owners!

After walking to the end of the gorge and being pointed at by excited tourists who were seeing anangu at Kata Tjuta, we headed to Uluru to check out the waterfall extravaganza!

After seeing rain on The Rock several times, it still blows me away!
From a distance, The Rock was silver, it's summit in the clouds, and you could see what looked like silver, etheric ribbons flowing down.

On closer approach, you could hear the water gushing down! White wash, rushing down through holes, pores, and rock holes of Uluru. Kantju Gorge was abundantly flowing, so hard, the creek nearby had started to flood. That I was hearing gushing water, crashing against an arkose sandstone monolith in the centre of Australia made me feel as though I were in some other parallel universe.

They were so grateful they'd had a Sunday day out, but today, the privilege was all mine. I was with family and I was experiencing the divinity of rich, flowing and abundant desert.

Photo by Catherine Cooley aged 11. Uluru.(Kantju Gorge far left) Courtesy of my iPhone!

Stop. Connect. Communicate

Sandy is an old tjilpi. A senior man and very highly respected. Tall, built, and ruggedly handsome. And, he's a real cowboy. In his 80's, you'll still catch him riding a wild brumby in order to round up other wild brumbies! No saddle, no bridle, just a bareback brumby. You may also see him in a rusty old station wagon riding a corrugated road with a car full of live chickens bouncing everywhere! A mile away, you can spot that tattered old cowboy hat and his big warm smile. No matter who you are, you have time for a cuppa with this cheeky character. He sits close, speaks quietly and smokes more than he should!

Jim is another old Tjilpi. He's short and very thin. In his late 70's, he still has the air of a young boy, but if you upset him - start running! Jim is a man of very few words, probably because his wife Yvonne has enough for the both of them! Although, if you're driving along in the car with him and Johnny Cash is playing, he'll sing along to every word! If you ever have the chance to sit with Jim, he'll speak to you - without using his mouth or his hands. All you have to do is have a willingness to sit and listen.

Yvonne is Jim's wife. She is a large woman with a beard! She is loud, demanding, bossy and incredibly overbearing. But if you give her a chance, she'll show you a much softer, warmer and generous side. Energetically, she is very big and, will know what you think before you think it. Great caution is required around your thoughts and feelings when you're around Yvonne. You may think she doesn't know. But she knows.

Billy is the liru man. Snake is his totem. He is renowned for his equisite carvings of snakes. Not only for the detail in their markings, but for how he chooses the wood he uses to create reptiles that have free flow and movement. Many of Billy's snakes have been mistaken for real ones! Billy has an impeccable grasp of the English language and it is always a delight to be around him. A passion for reading and a love for learning, Billy is always busy, either with his hands, his head in a book, or, teaching Ben and other walpalas how to craft wood. He has huge generosity in sharing knowledge, culture and stories.

The metaphysical doesn't blow me away. What blows me away is this mobs capacity to not even have the need to 'tune in' - it happens effortlessy, but furthermore, it's natural for them to verbalise it and translate into the physical. They aren't concerned about being judged. They speak freely. And, they speak truth. Nothing is intellectualised, or questioned, or broken down or picked apart, no one is tying to make logic of it. It just is. As they see it. As they hear it. As they know it. They speak it.

Whether it's Sandy Willie changing the direction a fire is moving using his hands by sending energy to move it.

Whether it's Jim who I have in the front seat using his hands to smooth the corrugated road and move animals out of the way.

Or, if it's Martha telling me there are 4 camels on the road before they are visible

Or, Eunice who manifests a "white fella" to change a busted tyre.

They all have the freedom to speak without being concerned about what I or others would think of them.

So, my question is; what if, we were to communicate in a way that was free?

What if, we were to trust our inner knowing and speak it, freely?

What if we had freedom around speaking what we thought and trusting our gut instincts, fearlessly with no concern of being judged or being thought of as a flakey froot-loop.

The question we should be asking is" What can we be learning from Indigenous Australians?" not, "What can we be teaching them?"

Photo by Victoria Leontios, Yeperenye Songline, Petermann Ranges

White Fella Comin'

Yet again, I find myself driving down the dusty, corrugated Great Central Road. This road starts from Docker River and continues to WA. I was heading back to Mutitjulu after having headed out to Warakurna, WA via Docker River - about 1200kms in one day!
I was becoming drowsy and was looking for a place to stop where the sand was hard.
Through my side mirror, I could see "bits of black stuff" flying in the hair and I was very quickly losing speed.

"Hey, must be sumtin wrong ey" Mrs. Porter called out from the back. Old tjilpi Jim was sitting in the front and he smiled and nodded. He'd been moving his hands the whole way, clearing the road of camels and other wild animals.

"Oowa, I think we blown a tyre". I pulled over, jumped out, and sure enough I'd blown the back tyre on the driver's side. There was barely anything left of it.
I was concious of the fact that we were losing light so I fumbled around the back of the Nissan Patrol. I had the jack but couln't see the jack handle anywhere.

"Wanti, leave it. White fella comin"
"White fella where? There's nothing. I can't hear anything" And I continued looking for a jack handle or a pair of plyers to wind the jack.
"Palya, wanti. Dun worry kungka. White fella comin. Siddown"
There's no-one I trust more than those old people when I'm travelling out bush. So, I sat on the side of the road and lit a cigarette.

"Hey, kungka, look" I turned my head, and I could not believe what I saw. A white Toyota travelling towards us! This is incredibly rare.
"White fella here"
"How do you know it's a white fella"? I asked
"White Toyota"
"Aaah, oowa palya" A tad skeptical, I had total faith in her.
These roads are quiet as it is, but to see a car travelling west at 5o'clock in the afternoon is a miracle. Mrs. P stuck her hand out and the white Toyota pulled over. Sure enough, a white fella hopped out, with his white wife, and two white children!
"You did a bloody good job with that! Blown good and proper!" The white fella said.
Within 15 minutes, I had a new tyre (second one that day!) And both our vehicles were back on the road, heading to our destinations before sundown.

During the last 150kms of that trip, I wondered - did Mrs. P know that this white fella was coming, or, did she call for him and manifest him into our dimension?

Photo by Victoria Leontios. Mrs. P, Tjakaruru Road

Camula Kutjara Kutjara

"Kungka, slow down, camula kutjara kutjara"
"Where nana? I see no camels"
"Wiya, udda side, four camels"
"In the scrub?"
"Wiya, on the road. You gotta slow down"

I was travelling along a dusty road at 130kmph, driving uphill. No-one could have known what was on the other side, unless of course, your name was Martha Proddy.
Martha is a wise old nana from Kaltukatjara (Docker River) a community in NT, 200kms from the WA border. Docker River is an interesting community. A community recently invaded by thousands of wild camels! And, although not long since 3000 of these camels have been culled, their population continues to increase, damaging water holes, flora, and, causing other fauna to become extinct. Docker River is a place of burnt out car wrecks, packs of camp dogs, people, and, baby camels living in unison.
Martha and her older sister, Nyinku (who was also travelling with me this day) live and work together. They produce punu (carved wooden animals), tjanpi (woven baskets and woven animals made from raffia and spinifex) paintings, and walka boards (plywood boards with burnt designs and paintings). They are dearly close and adore eachother, however, like most sisters, fight and bicker like cat and dog!

I reduced my speed as I approached the top of the crest and proceeded to drive down the other side of the dune at 80kms. After several minutes, I could see something on the road, but couldn't quite make out what it was, until I drew closer. Camula kutjara kutjara - four camels!

I'm by no means new to the paranormal or the metaphysical, nor was I hugely surprised. I was however, blown away by her connection, and her ability to tune into her country (this is where she grew up). There were seven of us travelling in my 4WD, all women, singing the songlines of Kaltukatjara, carefree, and within a split second, she saw "camula kutjara kutjara".

What I've seen of Australia's Indigenous people, is, that they are absolutely connected to their land. They absolutely know their land. They communicate with the land. They understand the land. And most importantly, they listen to the land. They hear her messages, her warnings, her gratitude.

So, what can we learn from this culture? From these people? From this land? How can we, as ordinary human beings, learn, or a better word might be "trust" our intuition, our "gut instinct" that feeling we get in the pit of our stomach that says "do it or don't it". We all have this. The thing is, do we use it? And, do we even acknowledge this part of ourselves?

See, these guys aren't worried about what other people think. They say it as they see it. They work with what they have. They don't spend time worrying about what other people think. Because, in the time they would worry about what someone thought of them for acting on a thought, message etc, someone could be travelling too fast and hit those camels!

Photo by Victoria Leontios, Tjakururu Road