Driving to Darwin

There’s not a whole lot to see between Kununurra and Katherine in the outback of Northern Australia.  But then again, nothing is relative isn’t it. 

That’s what I have come to believe anyway.  The longer you stay in a place, the more you appreciate it. 

Like my mom in Madeira Park: of course their place has been acknowledged for it’s beauty, but not for the details my parents appreciate.  It’s the mountains, the ocean and the location that the lower mainland is famous for.

But for mom and dad, it’s the birds – the individual species that appear on the water in the window as they eat their breakfast.  The new buds on the big arbutus trees in the waterfront.

It’s the ice that covers the salt water at least once each year:
The deer that sneaks into the yard and eats everything.
The golden lab that won't chase the deer.
It's the boats that pass by the full size windows that let their whole world in.

“Who’s that out there Jack?  Is that Paul?  I wonder what he’s doing”

When Vas and I first hit the Middle East we were so overwhelmed with the new sights, sounds and smells that we didn’t see much at all.  A few years later, after driving down the coast to watch the baby turtles hatch, we were on the road again, heading to Salalah. 

“The mountains around here really are quite amazing” Vas commented. 

I didn’t remind him that on our last trip he had complained that those same hills looked like piles of rubble.  Or maybe I did.  He had mumbled something like “I feel like we’re driving through a never ending gravel pit.”

As you live in a place longer, you begin to see little shops that you could have sworn weren’t there before and vegetation you hadn’t noticed. Like when you get out of the car and see that the little brown blobs along the edge of the highway are actually flowers.. delicate and lovely. 

When I first moved to Alice, just a couple of years ago now, Vas took me out to show me the ‘beauty of the outback.’  I wasn’t all that impressed to say the least. 

We drove to the Glen Helen Resort, maybe an hour and a half out of Alice Springs.  He was excited about it: “you’ll love this place” he said.  “It’s a real beauty.” 

Well.. it wasn't actually.  The road was dusty, the trees were stunted and knarled and there was little or no wildlife.  The waterhole was ok.. you could swim in it.  But really, what was all the excitement about? 

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and mine just weren’t ready to behold.  But before I left the area, more than a year later, I returned for a swim and a sandwich at the resort and found it absolutely delightful.  The red cliffs surely weren't there before.  And all that foliage..

It hadn’t changed, but I had.

And I am seeing now.

As we drive from Kununurra in Western Australia, into the Northern Territory I have a newly developed appreciation for the area.  I am familiar with the termite mounds and appreciate the uniqueness of these  mud highrises, bursting out of the earth.  They come in a variety of colors as well as shapes.  Some tall and symmetrical, others wide on the bottom and narrow, almost pointed at the very top: like the Grinche's hat. Some look like piles of rubble, others are like big blobs of oozing blubber, while others are solid and smooth on the outside: rock hard and proud. There are termite mounds  two or three or even four times the size of a large man while others are small piles of mud balls, barely making themselves seen as you pass through the tall grass. 

And the grass?  I used to see it is as dry.. dusty.  Now?  It is golden.  I have found the colors for this country on the shelves of art shops.  They are pure color, straight out of the bottle.  To paint the Australian Outback you need only blue, green, gold and burnt umber.  Bold and beautiful. 

And now that I can see it, the vibrant colors of the landscape, the details are coming into focus.  The black birds aren’t just ravens and crows, but also rare black cockatoos.  Parrots and cockatoos come in a variety of sizes and colors.  There are fruit bats, and a multitude of smaller birds. As I walked to the post office yesterday I passed a tree, in full bloom,  covered with mid sized birds with rainbow heads, green bodies and yellow tail feathers.

One day I would love to sit with a bird book and see just who everyone is. Like mom and dad did in Madeira.

But not yet. 

Today I am driving to Darwin for Christmas.  We have already passed a few wallabies: sitting on the side of the road, waiting for us to approach before finally bounding off into the white, softly barked eucalyptus trees, black snags and deep green grasses of the ‘wet’.  There was a kangaroo as well.. much larger, yet much the same.  He too waited, like the deer do at home.  Some wait too long, and get hit. 

Ozzi Road Train

We have seen a few flattened snakes and guannas on the hot pavement.. I think they waited a little too long.  There are also a few lizards, pretty big fellas that sit in the middle of the road with their heads up and neck frills all displayed: alive, for now.  It's not a very good defence pose against a moving vehicle I’m afraid. 

The red ridges of rock on the cliffs are not the Rocky mountains, but are pretty majestic in their own right.  The occasional boab.. some smooth and sleek, like a teenage girl, while others wide and knarled more like an old woman.  Geez they remind me of people! 

It’s the details: the little stuff that I'm seeing, and appreciating now.  I have been in Australia long enough to appreciate that this is beauty.  Not the same as a ferry ride up the coast of B.C. mind you, but beauty non the less.

Maybe you need a few grey hairs to appreciate the details in your life.  It's not the big stuff that is important anymore.. it's the little things.


You hear a lot about the ‘grey nomads’ making their way around Australia in their caravans. Maybe you need a few grey hairs to appreciate Oz. 

It can be pretty annoying at times, but it does grow on you.