White Rock - QLD AUSTRALIA

The sound of my footprints on brown sand and soul, the steady beat accompanied by bird calls and insects chatter. 
An eastern whip-bird just above me, nestled in the fork of an iron-bark eucalyptus, sings it's short sweet song. 
The wind blows gently through this sandstone valley, rustling leaves and native grass. 
The music of the Australian bushland. 

The smell of last nights rain lingers, mixing with the scented sap of the gum trees and the fallen leaves on the bush floor. The faint smell of a distant fire creeps around me and then is blown away. 

Ahead White Rock resides, beautiful and ominous, patiently watching over the land as it has for thousands of years. My lungs expand slowly as I breathe in the morning air while taking in the sight before me. 
A place where for millennia people have gathered. This land truly is sacred. 

Between my feet a trail of red ants march off to the left and up a burned tree to their home. 

All is done in natures time, whether it is the ant gathering food, the spider building it's home, the very landscape taking form. 

How strange our concept of "time" seems in a place like this. 

- Ryan MorningOwl 10/03/2014