There was no Wet Season here in northwestern Australia last year. The rain never came. Last night a cyclone (or hurricane) formed at sea to the north of us. It’s over 600km away and the sky is clear blue this morning.
Read MoreAfter ten days of phone calls not returned and emails unanswered, we realised that some of the people involved in letting the house might dislike gay people.
Read MoreThe men of our tribe have a reputation for strength and ferocity. There are reasons for that.
Read More‘Great clouds of yellow pollen moved through the air like huge, transparent fish. The chairs and tables on the terrace were covered in layers of the sweet-smelling gold powder.’
Read MoreI haven’t always found Customs Officers friendly. When I was a twenty-year-old kajal-eyed traveller from India, Australian Customs cut my soap open.
Read More‘I tried to imagine an easeful death, just stepping through a door, as they say.’
Read MoreBroome was the first place I saw hot pink frangipanis – their perfume swelling up in the waves of midday heat
Read MoreThere are those who use the old names in the pursuit of a misguided principle — that English speakers have a right to hegemony, to be the unquestioned namers of everything on the Australian islands.
Read MoreLooking out over the orange and pink sands, patterned by olive and citron greens of recent rains, I thought of our friend who died on that road. He flies with eagles.
Read More'Couldn’t immigration make some allowance?’ asked my wife. ‘They really don’t care,’ said the officer, looking Claudia in the eye.
Read MoreWe came on late notice, told that Claudia’s mother was dying. She nearly died a few times during her hospital admission. The doctor was quietly astonished when we agreed to take her home to care for her there.
Read More“Why is he worse now than he was before the operation?” John demanded. “Why isn’t he better? Are you telling us he’s not going to get better?”
Read MoreIn his new reality in the hospital, he was being captured and taken away, tortured and traumatised, every night.
Read MoreBack at our more peaceful house, the list of missing things had new additions every day. One of us would wake the other in the dead of night: “Have you seen my kitchen scissors?”
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Slot Canyon photograph in banner by Sebastian Boguszewicz
Creative Writing by Dr. Janelle Trees
Photo: Claudia Jocher
I'm a doctor of Aboriginal descent living and travelling with my photographer wife, Claudia. I see myself as a bridge between 'races' and cultures, gay and straight, the child and the crone, arts and sciences. I am inspired by Nature, including humans in all our splendid individuality.
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