Written By Talia
The land we seek to restore belongs to nobody but itself. We can’t own the spiders or the flies, the barking owls disturbing our rest. We can’t contain the wallabies hopping from bags into freedom, or the trees towering over it all. We spend our days attempting to restore land that will never, and can never belong to us. For the sake of our children, and our children’s children, we sow our sweat for the sheoaks and goannas.
We spend our days in the dirt, but the nights by the fire crackling into a sky opposite from our own. We share the stories of the lives we lived before a plane ride changed it all. School and family, jobs and stress, but then a wallaby hops near, reminding us of our insignificance in this un-ownable land.
We are reminded of how small we are, specks amongst the vast expanse of jungle and bush, owing our lives to those, generations before, that protected the places we now stand.
