We are two dry stretches of country. We carry the marks of millions of years, from the volcanoes, the ice ages, droughts, fires, floods, cultivation and mining. There are dry creek beds winding through us, patiently awaiting the arrival of water. Without water, the creek beds could be taken for scars, old wounds cut into the crust of the country with knives…
In each of the countries now, spring water begins to bubble up from deep within, and the creek beds begin to run wet and cool with the ancient sweet water. Hre hands touch the scars on the side of my head and my fingers dance over the healed-up holes where my father’s knife went in.
The creeks flow side by side and …cutting a new pathway through the red earth, join forces to become a mighty river.

Peter Docker, The Waterboys

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