Night-time in Mitchell can be magical, especially when the moon is full and glowing. With no city lights to diminish the effect of the heavens above, space seems infinite and everything seems possible.
Across the road, massive white-trunked river gums cling protectively to the riverbank, casting their reflections deep into water holes, along with reflected light from the clouds above.
The restless eerie cry of an owl opens up the vast mysterious world around me. Darkness suggests distant enchantment.
The velvety darkness that envelopes the town after a sweltering 40°C day throbs with the throaty music of frogs, crickets and bats. Sometimes this music rises to a frenzy but then slips back to a more tranquil place, lulling me to sleep.
A Willie wagtail utters its, "Sweet pretty creature" call from a nearby silky oak and I know all is well in my world.