Sky-Country
for the Kulin Nations
…swept to scudding mist and manna, to the white trunks of a slurred-over terrain, the huge dark wing beats are a skirmish of creation pouring out from the grey spiraling steam as talons are thrust forward in a lunge at ground zero before vertical recovery skids to apex and another soaring U-shaped dive that tears earth by its roots, raising country out of a blue-smoky spray now sweet with the scent of eucalyptus and mint: blooming in a bowl felted, and warily watched over by another’s shallow-beating and quivering charcoaled wings, the sinuous curves of country are cherished in a loud descendant wailing that gushes open all the streaming waters and creatures of our time…
Phillip Hall