“The structures of kinship reach out to all living men, to all his fellow creatures and to the rivers, the rocks and the trees.” (Bruce Chatwin, The Songlines, 1987) “You call it a view. But it’s a song. … When here was under the water, it was south of the Equator. And ever since, all of it’s been travelling at about eleven point two five kilometres every million years. It’s still doing it. Here is just where it happens to have got to now. That’s the song.” (Alan Garner, Thursbitch, 2003) |
I experience a sense of loss when I read of the relationship between indigenous Australian cultures and the land that is their home. In the western world we long ago lost our sense of kinship with the landscape, and with it we have lost our awareness of the duty of care and respect we owe to the land. For the land does not belong to us, we are its offspring. For many millennia it has nurtured us and patiently met our incessant demands. Now, surely, the time has come for us to assume our responsibilities and care for our ageing ancestors.
In western cultures, it is the scientists who teach us about the origins of our land and how it was formed. Here I invite you to leave for a while the strict confines of scientific accuracy, of hypothesis and analysis, of scale and measurement: venture just a little way into the more shadowy realm of mythology, marvel at the beauty that lies therein and glimpse perhaps a different truth. |