These stories are part of my families’ makeup and we relish discussing them with each other and with others, gaining that sense of satisfaction of telling our weird and mysterious stories and seeing the shocked and slightly unnerved reaction from our friends and family. We recalled this story only this year as if it was yesterday.
When I was a child my Family and I had gone camping up to Mount Gambia, Victoria and was passing through vast dry and arid landscape of the out back near Hanging Rock.
The suns heat was heavily beating down on the car and the atmosphere in the car-felt hot, heavy and disturbing.
I could hear the hot wind beating against the car as it came twirling round the back of us in different directions, as we travelled though the red open landscape of the bush. A frightening sinister fear of the supernatural and the Aboriginal magical powers rose up within us, as we heard our names chanted though the wind one by one.
The urge to move on was compelling, as we hysterically yelled to our mother not to stop.
Then as if from nowhere, in a distance behind us, was an almighty red sandstorm rising up from a small amount of dust powder.
Our eyes widened as this red dust was easily swept up by the strong winds through the arid plains of the uninviting land and was becoming an enormous dust storm.
With tons of dust swirling in the air, it carried away with it suspended birds, and other debris in the atmosphere of the storm. Within the distance were many animals that thought they could escape the storm.
When it happens you can't see anything but a wall of sand covering your view, so that the landscape is implied rather than explicated.
As the force of wind travelled behind us, we strived to out run the impact of what may have been a devastating circumstance that was almost unavoidable.
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