Feeling the need to 'go bush', Doug and I drove a distance of less than 1 km from Mitchell, stopped the Ute and wandered into a piece of previously unknown bush-- not knowing what if anything we'd find.
Within five minutes we were exploring a deep yet almost completely dry creek bed. Over summer, a huge amount of water must have roared through here, a massive energy force headed for the Maranoa River. We had the feeling we were the first humans to tread this route and perhaps we were.
We sat for five minutes beside a small waterhole, and in that brief interlude saw a pair of yellow-throated miners, and brilliantly coloured mallee ring-neck parrots drink and bathe. Also a wallaby and many butterflies.
A feeling of timelessness hangs over this special place of polished rocks, banks of golden sand, eroded cliffs, tangled flood debris, and exposed roots clinging precariously to life on the edge.
In outback Australia, it's always possible to get away from the madding crowd: find peace and quiet.
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