The Gift of Time: Outback Memories

The memories of the desert are captured within the breath of the landscape. What does this place remember? What has it seen? What has it heard? As the skies lighten and darken with the rain, do we know the full story of what has taken place beneath them?

The landscape is a backdrop for the varied memories of multiple people. Summer comes, bringing with it heat and humidity. Air conditioners are on, and going outside means facing the sun. However, we have also seen the rivers flood, trapping some and washing away the tension of others. All those caught in the catchments see the rising tide through a different lens. New memories are formed.

The wildflowers blossom. Their lifespan is finite. They nod for a short time: white and purple, amongst the petals of other companion plants. They see the earth and the people who pass by for a moment; then they fade, and during the next season, return again. Such has been the cycle of the years, each time spanning new growth and life.

Wildflowers in Alice Springs: New life, new memories

People pass over the Central Desert. Each of them brings their own story, each of them breathes into the atmosphere their own perspectives and experiences. They seek to pass these on to those who come after them. Like the wildflowers, they last only for a short time. When they leave, they take their presence with them, and those left behind continue on.

This year, summer has been wet thus far. Rain has stirred up the soils, as life barrels towards the end of the year. For many, it has been a hard year, full of isolation and challenge. One day, we will tell our memories of this time as stories. They will become part of Australia as we move on from our current position. We gift our memories to those who come after us, so they know how they came to the position from which they start.

No matter how uncomfortable summer might be, there is beauty in the foliage and rocky earth. There is still red dust, blue sky, razor-backed ranges. Each night, the sky yields the same stars, and each morning the sun breaks forth from the dawn. One day, we will become a memory, too; until that time, we press on, knowing that everything has its time, and there is always hope.