Story telling from Australia
When I took these photos I felt happy.
I was glad to be back in Broken Hill, keen to explore the town we used to call home, looking forward to catching up with friends and eagerly preparing for a writing workshop.
The trees, plants and landscape of Broken Hill – both in town and out in the desert – bring me joy. I can’t explain why I love the place so much. I just do.
In the midst of joy, these photos brought me added pleasure.
Two days ago I heard that my application to leave Australia and visit family in England was rejected. No reason given, just a simple no, you’re not leaving. We won’t allow it.
Our borders won’t open until the pandemic wanes, or until enough Australians get vaccinated, and neither outcome is likely to happen in a hurry.
So, here I am back in Sydney, mourning the fact that I can’t visit family in England, turning to photographs to try and find a glimmer of joy.
It might seem odd that photographs from a mining town in Outback New South Wales should offer comfort when my heart longs to be in England.
But there’s something about the resilience of these plants, their beauty and their determination to survive, that lifts my spirits.
Somehow, in the midst of sorrow, these photos bring me solace.