Copyright 2013 Tess Mackenzie
The trees were tangle-trunked weeping gums, all bent and twisted, stunted and knotted, with creaking branches and clattering dusty leaves. Bark came off in long loose strips and hung, rattling, in the breeze. Between the trees there was grass and dust and stony little gullies. In a dry summer like this, the sun baked everything, grass and dirt and empty dams, to a dusty pale gold.