In Broome our feet are dusted with red earth and we wash them in in soft milky blue opalescent waves. Above us an unrelenting stretch of cerulean sky floats day after day. And before us is the Indian Ocean – an endless canvas of wild brush strokes in turquoise, aquamarine, periwinkle and peacock shimmering beneath a crayoned line of indigo.
In Broome we understand the ancient art of people who have lived in this land for thousands of years. Everywhere we see Dreamtime shapes – in swollen bellied boabs and strange fruit, in the colour of native blossom and the pattern of leaves and branches, in the burnt orange rocks and rust red soil.
In Broome camels, cars, people, dogs and seagulls leave their prints on the soft sand of Cable Beach.
In Broome we wait under a star sequinned sky for a magical staircase to take us to the moon. An orange stain appears over the mangroves in the deep purple night. And suddenly there it is – a lantern of gold rising over perfect steps of light.
Staircase to the Moon (photo by Angela Beechey)
© Anita Patel, 2015