The air is still and dense with sweet clouds of volatilized nectars, and coloured by plumes of ochrey dust. Flakes of bloodwood bark tumble to the stony soil below, whilst babblers and fledgling butcherbirds rollick around the nearby mulgas.
Spring in Centralia brings a frenzied scurrying of ants and tireless buzzing of bees and wasps that inspires life. It brings fresh, vibrant, radiant sprays of turquoise, mustard, lemon, tangerine, maroon, coral blooms, caked with sticky pollen.
Spring in Centralia brings dusty imprints of dog and emu prints in the damp clay; it brings children laughing and gallahs squabbling, drunk on seeds and nectar like so many larrikins at the local pub; it brings a vast, extensive, inimitably endless blanket of Wahlenbergias, peas, Indgoferas, Malvaceas and Asterales – a rainbow cape on the harsh, red, rocky range of Tjoritja.