It was forty-three degrees Celsius in Kalgoorlie. I booked a powered site at a caravan park close to town, deciding to use my air conditioner and small television for the next two weeks. The park was a haven, with a well-equipped laundry, pristine swimming pool, and landscaped gardens. There were native red morrells with their rough grey bark, ancient pink salmon gums with long, tapered grey-green leaves, and a white gum with wild orchids flowering at its base. Blackbirds settled on the tops of trees and small Mallee scrub birds bustled in and out of leafy branches.
I breathed in the exquisite scent of eucalypts, parked the van in a shady corner, and adjusted the awning to keep it cool. I gave Matey fresh cold water and settled down with my book. I was exhausted from sadness, trauma, and
