In amongst the abore-mentioned stories we faithfully did our Muscle/Bone training each and every morning (except Sundays), then Manipulations after the MB and Groundwork in the afternoon. One day we cancelled Manipulations and Groundwork in order to make a painting with the Aboriginal women. We waited and waited. Tess had disappeared, along with a couple of the women and a visual artist. So we waited. Some of our mob fretted, needing a schedule and felt we were wasting time. I knew we wouldn't paint that day.

The next day we painted. By this time little Tespina had made friends with everybody. I secretly named her she-who-breaks-the-ice (and give lots of love!). Tespina helped bring the two mobs together. The canvas was laid out and the women invited us into their space. The women only painted Mina Mina, which is part of their secret women's business. Mina Mina is an actual place and I figured they are the custodians of this sacred place. Dorothy directed the design and the other women painted the design. Then we were invited to join in and dot the painting.

Whilst this was happening and 20 or so people were crammed around a big painting quietly dotting away, the white haired women with mischievous eyes pulled out a bundle and presented us with a ball of twine made from human hair. Some of us wanted her to show us how she made it, but she said she had no hair. No problem, as two girls, Karen and Nancy promptly sheared their hair off and dumped the locks in the woman's lap. I swear she looked like she'd just swallowed a galah. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to twine hair and secretly observing ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING from under my lashes. I don't think much escaped my attention that day and of course I'm sure a lot did! My strongest memory is of those strong slender black desert hands manipulating Nancy's hair into a chaotic mass and then twisting, twisting a fine strong yarn. Other fragmented close up snaps stand poignant in my memory: smiles and white teeth, bright, kind and shy eyes, a sense of extraordinary generosity and a willingness to share.

I found in that moment I was full. My hand curls into a soft fist and I take it to your heart and gently knock once then bring my fist to mine heart and knock gently once. There are no words to describe that feeling of fullness.

I reckon they fully blessed our camp and gave us good fortune for the remainder of our stay. They gave us a departure point of how community can feel when working in harmony and generosity. When they left, all 30 of us waved and cried out goodbyes. There were handshakes, hugs and kisses all round.

After they left I ran down to the riverbed and cried like a baby. I felt their presence for days. Kept seeing their shadows out the corner of my eye. Dreamt them at night. Smelt their desert scent.

And the landscape cradled me. The riverbed, where if you closed your eyes, you could feel the cold water rushing over you, through you. The river gums, from young to old, from old to older, to decrepit and decaying and yet look!- there's a whole new tree growing from that dead hollow trunk!