Big boulders fell steeply down and around a sharp corner with trees on both sides and no end in sight.

The mother of the three tiny chickens is sobbing her heart out.

Wet season caretakers at Mt Elizabeth Cattle Station.

Still no sign of rescue. Supplies are running dangerously low.

The tides are big again and I have taken to shitting in the bush.

You had ONE job!

The tide has been out for days, or so it seems.

We beat the sun into the day.

Turn all lights off and look into the sky.

Ditch the pig!

This is serious business now. It is no longer a matter of fun in the sun, it is dinner.

This is where we watch the sun rise every day while we breathe in coffee.

We have thrust ourselves into a constant physical battering that will shake the stories that are airless inside of us out into the world.