I was in the local creek to help restore the local bush. I was planting
Lomandra hystrix at the foot of the bank. The bank was eroding and showed layers of gravel and clay. One layer was reddish and gritty; I thought it was old brick, building waste perhaps. Digging a piece out I moistened it in the creek and it became soft. I drew across my skin. Bright shiny and rich earthy red marked me.
In her book
Colour (2002), Victoria Finlay describes how red ochre is sacred and is mens business. But here in the local creek the link to the aboriginal people seems broken, and even the plants and animals are threatened.
Gritty softened lump
Wet red ochre marks my skin
This earth is sacred.
