The Bitch - and her sisters - will each carry cattle worth - at current values of $782 a head for export cattle - $112,600 from Brunette Downs to the yards in Darwin. Each load will weigh around 50.4 tonnes. Across the four trucks in this convoy the total value of this run will be around $450,000 with a weight of 200 or so tonnes.
there were few ground-dwelling birds in my yard until a few months ago when I noticed a brief flash of feathered chestnut skulking in the ferns near the pool. I didn't think much of it at the time until a few days later I saw this most beautiful bird - a Buff-banded Rail Gallirallus philipensis - in full view. Over the next few weeks we got more and more familiar with each other's company. Now it is dead. eaten by neighbourhood cats.
One night King Solomon invited all the birds to sing to his noble guests. All came except the hoopoe. Angry, the king ordered a search, and when the hoopoe was found and rebuked, the bird explained that he was not guilty of disrespect. On the contrary, for the last three months he had hardly tasted any food or water, flying all over the world to discover if any place existed which was not yet subject to Solomon. Finally he found the land of Sheba, ruled by a beautiful and wise woman called Queen Balkys, where they have not heard the name of Solomon.
Lorna Fencer Napurrurrla was non-conformist, original (and) abandoned conventions, revolutionary, independent, mercurial, unrelenting, tough, funny, flirtatious (and) seriously dedicated, go it alone, irreverent, talented, energetic, confident, irascible, feisty, loud, imperious, cranky and her imperial majesty. She was prolific, chaotic and partial to intellectual stoushes, wicked, impish, forcible and would brook-no-opposition, a dab hand at getting others to do her bidding, tough, overbearing, born-to-rule, with a strong sense of self belief, a strong sense of self worth, bossy, wicked, (with a) rapier sharp wit.She was a loner, eccentric, individualist, over the top fearless, go it alone, against the grain, (and) very, very funny.
UPDATED - Now with added Gerry Wood! That's not all! Just next to this rubbish dump there is an open sewerage pond where the raw sewage is pumped out straight of the houses. It is just very rough and ready - a hole in the ground surrounded by a chain-mesh fence. Pure raw sewage. The tip is about 2 or 3 minutes drive from the community. Kids walk back and forth. Dogs can get into the sewage ponds and then they go back to the community. It is a disgrace.
Earlier this week I drove out to the west coast of the NT’s Gulf of Carpentaria for work. On the first morning out bush I was lucky enough to be up before dawn and wandered down to the foreshore to see what might wander past and into my camera. I’d seen a pair [...]
Nigel Adlam's award as NT Journalist of the Year was unsurprising and - in light of the three minor gongs awarded for solid work - deserved. But there were more than a few mutterings that it might have been better for him to leave the field to the many younger, and no less deserving, early career journalists who might appreciate the the nice cheque and trip to Brisbane for the Walkley Awards in a few weeks as much as he will.
AMSANT noted in its submission that it: "...note[d] that the many threats to environmental and public health that have been largely eliminated in the rest of the nation over the past century still blight many of our communities: urban, regional and remote. To this extent, the capacity of comprehensive primary health care to meet the needs of Aboriginal Territorians—to Close the Gap—will continue to be frustrated in environments in which fundamental public health protections are not available or unmet." AMSANT was concerned at the parlous state of environmental health of many of the communities that its members serve, where: "Poor environmental health conditions in remote communities and town camps include inadequate sanitation, water supply, rubbish disposal and grossly overcrowded housing. Basic infrastructure in many remote communities is either absent, inadequate and/or poorly maintained."
The male bird floats effortlessly in broad and lazy circles before me, the black terminal tail band stark against the soft creaminess and coppery...nankeen...colours of his underwing plumage. As he crosses before the sun these colours glow backlit and glorious. Does he see me?
Being here this evening, surrounded by her work, is not all of what Sarah is about. At her opening last year I described her in the best of possible ways as a “mongrel dog”. With that description, I was describing her as central Australia’s leading advocate and activist for Aboriginal people with end stage renal disease. I described her as that because, quite simply, she is completely unafraid in her dealings with bureaucrats and politicians in her battles with them. call her that as a token of real affection. The real puzzle is that she is both mongrel dog activist, mother, carer of people within the Western Desert Renal Dialysis family—yet still finds the time to create objects of beauty and wonder.
