Maria               My place is pink.
Willow              Taste of the salt and sand and wind.
Ada                 The pale silvery eggs at dusk.
Jennifer                       Is this where I truly belong?
Abigail             I hear the rough sea, although the whistle of the wind grows.
Caitlin              I feel the cool breeze blow on my face.
Fahdah                        I imagine the sounds of the ocean's waves shatter on the grounds                                                                        covering Cronulla.
Akira               I pictured Bennelong trudging in the sand when suddenly he spots  a group of                            bleached out ghosts.
Harvey                        People, water and rocks.
Wunyi              However, Toongabbie also seems mysterious, like a message that is serious.
Greg                And we could see the lights of Adelaide shining in the jet black sky.
Yijia                When I hear the word Yana, I imagine leaves dancing by and the wind                                           starting to sing.
Becky                         When I see Kogarah, I see a great big beautiful bay.
Audrey                        Parramatta looks like a fast working city busy like the white rabbit.
Gordon                        Darra reminds me of a girls name, Tara.
Dre                              When I hear this name I remember all my family.


Eat this country
Immerse yourself in our knowing
Consume our hindered growing
And maybe we can conversate
In ways we cannot conceive
Speaking words we cannot read
From guides that do not exist, nor we cannot see
No signs in contested spaces
To be eclipsed 
No translations