It's what you make of it

Crack! Connor swooped his whip around his body and cracked it again. He was only ten but could already command the attention of forty people.

Wambiana Station is where Connor and his family live and work. I was there on a field trip. Our group had no contact with the outside world. The station was our home base, our sanctuary.

Connor was more than competent with a whip. He could crack it whilst standing, sitting and lying down.

After allowing some students to try, Connor’s mother ask him to stop. He said, “We have to stop because we’ll flog the lawn out and Mum won’t like that.”

We started to head back to our dorms and Connor ran up to us to ask, “What time are you guys waking up? I just want to get some welding done.”

I often forgot his age. At ten years old he had more life skills and manners than most adults. It took me aback. I had never met a boy like Connor. He was respectful, agile, intelligent and modest. I learnt a lot about being a good person from watching him. He made me want to be a better person to others.

As we would gather our gear for our daily expeditions, Connor would blaze past us on. His motorbike looked bigger than him. He was off to work.

The outback is beautiful. Red fine dirt coats and colours your shoe. Pandanus trees hook you as you pass them as a reminder to look where you’re going. The stars shine brighter at night and the sunrises are richer.

One night we had the privilege to go spotlighting in the bush. As we shone our head torches into the scrub a hundred bright silver dots appeared. Our teacher then informed us we were looking at the eye shine of hundreds of tiny spiders.

The animals, the landscape and the pleasant company all delivered more than I expected. I came back with a new perspective on my own life. I’d always cast aside the idea of living in the bush. I now welcome the opportunity.

When you’re in the outback you tend to reflect. You find out what’s important. The nuances of everyday city life fade away and you’re left with yourself. There is space, not only to move, but to think too.

Connor and his family experience this everyday. I guess that’s why it struck me how grounded they make you feel. That feeling of unconditional welcoming was so strong when you were around them.

For your stay, you were a part of their family. You belonged.