On whim we packed a picnic and hit the highway to get to the Organ Pipes National Park before the sunset. Once we had descended down to the valley floor, we were careful not to walk too far in any direction lest the fantasy of being miles away from the city be broken.
Our study of the curious hexagonal basalt columns was interrupted by a rumble, first one low flying plane and then another and another, oh well we could incorporate that into the daydream, planes searching for lost adventurers, or perhaps something more sinister…then there was a faint whine, we looked around, it was getting louder and more insistent. Hmmm…when it comes to dreams of isolation the Calder Park Motorway is a bit harder to dismiss, but the ants seemed nonplused gathering crumbs we had carelessly shed from our veggie burgers. A kangaroo chomping on grass nearby shrugged his nonchalance at his neighbours over the road. The lovers by the river seemed more concerned by our sudden appearance than any flight path, we left them to it.
Shadows began sliding into the valley, over the cliff as we wondered when the frozen rock worm within would awaken and complete its churning motion exploding out of the cliff face all teeth and malice. I packed my overactive imagination back in its case as orange sunlight licked our backs goodbye and then was gone. We made our way up and out, through the deserted car park and back towards the city lights.
