The desert passes by the car window.
People seem to think a desert is a sterile, barren place; an unending vista of not much, stretching to infinity.
Yet, what is passing by, is an everchanging scene.
There is a straggle of undersized trees meandering across the land, marking a watercourse. Strangely, there is a sand dune a few metres high and on a sliver of the crest a grove of very green and tall trees; tall, that is, compared to the small trees along the bottom of the dune. How are those trees on the top of a dune so leafy and well-developed? Maybe a spring emerging there has helped their growth.
Against the horizon a noticeable leafy tree line clearly marks a major creek and a quick check of the map, shows the Warburton River flowing to Lake Eyre. Although, when it is crossed it is mainly dry.
There are a series of patches of gibber stones, interspersed with a variety of vegetation. Scrubby trees and at least four different bushes: the blue-green saltbush, a bright yellow-green; a lawn green and a dark green – I’ve no idea what they are, but it’s certainly variety. It’s not quite the green lushness of Ireland, either. In places it has obviously rained recently as there is a fair covering of grass.
The cerulean sky has a ruler-straight, pencil thin vertical crack in it. It’s a radio tower! And, getting closer, there are even thinner ruler straight lines angling off it; the guys to maintain it upright. It’s part of a network of radio towers across Australia that enable communication by pastoralists and travellers alike.
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