Returning Home to the Outback

I watch the landscape from the plane window. The green tops of Eucalyptus covered country appear as the plane travels further from the east coast. The earth stretches out beneath the clouds, and I wait until, slowly, the desert appears. And when I can make out the scars of ancient ranges on the endless red, I know that I am close to Alice.

When the impact of landing on the tarmac in Alice shudders through me, I know I am where I should be. I am in the Central Desert, with its sunburnt soil and secret waterholes, a place of sunsets and fresh dawns and star-scattered nights. I know Alice's seasons, her light and shade, her fractures and her strengths. I am home. 

There is a certain disconnection in travelling. You are away from all that is familiar. Yet, there is a certainty that you will return. We used to take this for granted. In a world emerging from closed borders, local and international, returning has not always been easy. Now, it seems that places are opening up, and visiting other locations is quickly embedding itself into the lives of Centralians once again.

The landscape of the Red Centre - home

The eastern seaboard is graced with a sparkling sea and mild climate. It rains often, lately more than usual. It does not have the same extreme temperatures as the Red Centre, although it too can produce intense storms. Its climate can be muggy, but also cool; it is the luck of the draw as to whether the sky chooses rain or sunshine when a trip to Sydney is booked.

However, even though I walk the streets of Sydney city, drink at its cafes, and visit its edges where there is water, it is not a place where I am settled. Having lived in Alice, where time is more languid and there is space enough for anyone and everyone, I could not return to a city. For some, Alice has the opposite effect; its smaller population and confined urban centre propel some back into the busyness of the city. They find relief in getting out of such a small town. I don’t feel this. Other places have their own kind of beauty. So does Alice; and it is this that calls me back.