Anita Heiss
My giiny (heart) swells as I fly over central NSW. An often lush view, it’s dry of late but my spirit still comes alive knowing I’m ngulagambilanha (returning home) to ngurambang (country) and that my city-slicking feet will soon be on Wiradjuri land again.
I close my eyes and breathe in deeply as I plant myself in the flood plains of Wagga Wagga, imagining what life must have been like here in times gone by. I’m mesmerised by the scarred trees that tell me stories of my Wiradjuri ancestors living along the mighty Murrumbidgee Bila (river) for tens of thousands of years. It’s a bila that once flooded the town of Gundagai – famous for its Dog on the Tuckerbox – but more significantly, it’s the home of two Wiradjuri heroes, Yarri and Jacky Jacky, who saved many lives in the Great Flood of 1852.
The Murrumbidgee is strong. The current pulls me as I stand thigh-deep at what is affectionately known as Wagga Beach. It’s a far cry from my beloved Maroubra Beach in Sydney but it is a place that invites locals and tourists alike to swim, fish, gather for family time and share the beauty of the waterway. As dusk approaches, there is an amazing chorus of muraany (white cockatoos), a sound that is foreign to my ears – it is a bird call that is beautiful and yet overwhelming at the same time.
Across country, I drive into Cowra below the speed limit so I can take in the familiar sign on my left: “Welcome to Wiradjuri country.” This sign of yindyamarra (respect) makes me smile from the inside out. It takes only a couple of days to visit some of my favourite landmarks around town on foot, including Billy Goat Hill at daybreak. Of course, there are many Australian sunrises and sunsets that are internationally renowned, from Bondi to Broome. But it’s dawn in Cowra that I love most. From my viewpoint overlooking the town, I take in the flat expanse that is home to the United Nations World Peace Bell, a heritage-listed site that remembers World War II and its prisoners of war, and a cherry blossom festival that fills the town with colour and tourists. Cowra is mostly a peaceful place and the serene Japanese Gardens allow reflection, a time to ponder what this country was, is and might one day be. Like my daybreak moment, my stroll here is routine when visiting.
My favourite sunset is in Brungle and as I watch a burnt orange morph into a dark mauve night sky, I fall in love with this landscape for the umpteenth time. Home, they say, is where the giiny is. My giiny is here.