In days gone down, this river carried with it the germ of empires, the seeds of countries, the dreams of uncountable millions. Some of these seeds took root in colonies at the uttermost ends of the Earth. My great grandfather, Charles Robert Blakiston, sailed down this very river in 1864, bound for the goldfields of Victoria and then, to the fledgling settlement of Canterbury. Continue reading The Pool of London
I live and breathe the silences and dust where no man reigns… – Cold Chisel, Wild Colonial Boy Dawn on … Continue reading Back to the Track
Out here nothing changes,Not in a hurry anyway.You feel the endlessness,Running from the light of day… … Continue reading THE GATES OF HELL
Out where the river broke,The bloodwood and the desert oak.. – Midnight Oil, Beds Are Burning At Roper Bar I … Continue reading CROCODILE COUNTRY
…the emu-sextons pay me a last cursory glance… At Menzies, a dead-on-its-feet mining town a hundred kilometres north of Kalgoorlie, … Continue reading IRON AND GOLD
You’re in by Karumba,Where the fishing boats come in;I can’t believe this feeling,But I wish that I was there,Every passing … Continue reading UNDER THE SUN
I’ll never let you go If you promise not to fade away… … Continue reading NORTHERN LIGHT
“I thought of all the songs I’d sung about this Outback track,And that is how this vision came to me…”– … Continue reading Corner Country
Nothing beside remains. Round the decayof that colossal wreck, boundless and barethe lone and level sands stretch far away… – … Continue reading Vanishing Points
I no longer feel as though I am walking on the moon; I am back on the good Earth. Continue reading Walking on the Moon
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