Night Field

Crickets chirp in the distance, as a lone bird – late to bed – sends out its final goodnight. Above me spots of paint are flicked across a black canvas, making interesting patterns reminiscent of ‘dot to dot’ pictures. The solid ground beneath my bare feet is damp, seeming to soak through the soles, and the grass tickles when I stand still. Leaves whisper to each other as I pass, and branches reach out to stroke my hair.

The air is fresh here, untainted and unspoiled. The scent of eucalyptus floats on a tenuous breeze, cooling my skin, leaving me feeling as fresh as a sapling bathed in morning dew. With the soft light of dawn, brilliantly coloured flowers will be visible strewn over the landscape. Mauve, crimson and cerulean blooms stand in stark contrast to the earthy tones of this parched plain. But for now, all that is visible are the silhouettes of a few twisted gum trees, not frightening, but fascinating with their convoluted shapes. There is the feeling of space here, not the illusory space of a city park, but a true expanse of grass, scattered trees, and small life forms, in this sparse yet resplendent landscape.