Our Australian Home

As Jetstar was making its approach to the Darwin airport, I watched the sunrise from the plane window.  It was an incredible red line as far as I could see, separating ocean from sky.  And then suddenly I saw trees on the horizon and we were here.

We arrived slightly late and hung over from a night with no sleep, but Denise and Michael were waiting for us once we had cleared customs.  The drive to their house took about an hour, after a stop for gas.  We had no idea what to expect.

Turns out they live in the bush, literally. The people who built the place in the 1980’s tried planting cypress trees, but a bush fire came through and wiped out all but three of them out.  

Michael and Denise have since created a bird sanctuary on the land and are preserving the area as habitat for all wildlife, not just the birds.  They are both up early in the cool morning air, clearing and maintaining the land, preserving this parcel of earth from invasive and foreign grasses and protecting the native growth.

Not sure you can see them, but these trees at Michael and Denise's house are full of rainbow lorikeets.

It is dry season so things probably seem less bushy and more scrub-like than normal.  Trees grow tall here but are mostly leafless.  Native palms remind me that we are in the tropics still, and dry grasses create the underbrush. Most of the trees I’ve never heard of and even the familiar ones-- like eucalyptus--are a different variation than I’m known, for instance, in California.  

Bella, Poppy, and Portia are the resident dogs, and all were delighted to meet us when we first arrived.  They are equally joyous to greet us when we wake in the morning, upon our return each day from outings, and whenever Michael throws palm nuts into the water for them to retrieve.

Nicole and I are staying in the guesthouse.  The guesthouse is made from a cement pad, metal struts, particleboard, and corrugated iron walls and roof. The windows were probably state-of-art in the outback in the fifties.  They are multi-levered glass that crank open. Friends from Florida will be able to picture them.

The appliances are all strangely simple, mostly rusted, but usable.  The toilet is outside, in a storage area and one must fill a bucket to pour into the bowl for flushing.  It’s like camping but far more comfortable.

The first morning we were here, Nicole looked out the window and said, “Look Susan, there’s a wallabee,” but he had hopped away before I could see him.

It’s beautiful here.  We hear all kinds of birds, day and night.  We are in one of the last real wildernesses on the planet.