Right here in the middle cat's head part of Australia, right near the eye, we walked. And we walked. And we walked. And as we walked we dirtied our hands on the hides of smooth-barked apple gums and shy black sheoaks and we made our way to the meeting of the local of the NCDU. And for the first time in a long time it was OK that our hands were dirty.
Right. Right. No, left. Twists and turns. Instructions written in a moleskin, which hasn’t been treated with the care it deserves.
Thoughts of the upcoming meeting are disrupted by pink and grey cockatoos in council of their own. Our concerns, those of the galahs and those of the cattle duffers union, are principally the same. This is solidarity.
Eyes kept peeled for a natural amphitheatre, for a place to sit, our thoughts turn to objectives. They are minor revisions, to be sure, not fundamental enough to make history shift its ponderous weight, but important ones, nonetheless. They are simple ones, too, about by-laws and fees – in short, business matters.
We are here now, among the twisted spirits of this place. Have we made quorum?
Written on Monday, 2 August 2021
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