DESERT SOUL
IT’S 7PM and I’m sitting cross-legged among rings of spinifex, a cockatoo’s flight from the main stage – a glowing red rock that, at almost 350 metres high, is taller than the Eiffel Tower. As the sun sinks into the horizon’s blanket, the rock slides through a palette of colours. It moves from red to blood orange to pink, and from a kidney-hued purple to a final shade of black.
TO ME THE PLACE FEELS LIKE OUR COUNTRY’S CATHEDRAL; A PILGRIMAGE
