Baal bootalang... More like a jumbo jet. She is majestic too. Queen of the air! I lived for a year with an Aboriginal activist near the Swan/Canning River. She had a garden that went sprawling down to the river at Salter's Point. In the morning, first thing, before the sun had jumped into the sky I would watch old bootalang glide over the water's surface. HOW do they do it? How do they sit - seemingly motionless - wings outstretched and gliding without moving and the river gives them lift? Maybe they have made a pact with the water that keeps them aloft?
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Baal bootalang... More like a jumbo jet. She is majestic too. Queen of the air! I lived for a year with an Aboriginal activist near the Swan/Canning River. She had a garden that went sprawling down to the river at Salter's Point. In the morning, first thing, before the sun had jumped into the sky I would watch old bootalang glide over the water's surface. HOW do they do it? How do they sit - seemingly motionless - wings outstretched and gliding without moving and the river gives them lift? Maybe they have made a pact with the water that keeps them aloft?
God that sounds gorgeous :)
Incredible aren't they...
...they inspire a sense of trust that no matter how impossible it seems we are lovingly held in the embrace of our mother...destined to soar
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