Red Dirt Reflections

by Bec Bignell

The red dirt of the Kimberley is otherworldly - it instantly transports you far from monotonous modern life. It’s deeply rich and humbling. Against the textured backdrop of sheer gorges, startling sunsets, tranquil trees, sacred stones and dramatic rocky outcrops, I’m reminded of my insignificance. I’m as small and unimpressive as the pesky spinifex snagged in my sock. When the sun sinks into the red dust and the moon climbs into the night sky the cyclical process of life is blaringly obvious without city distractions. I’m estranged from the incessant need to run and I’m grateful for the moment of magnitude. I stop. I’m still. There’s something strangely comforting about acknowledging that it’s all part of a much bigger programme that goes on with or without you. It gifts an endless sense of time that outweighs worries, anxieties, insecurities. The pressure is removed, and it pivots my perspective.