Sorrow


I was in Gladstone, Queensland not long ago and on one of my walks, I came across an historic site at a place called Police Creek. During the mid 1800’s, the Government of the day recruited aboriginal troopers (The Native Mounted Police) from distant tribes. They were to assist to pacify or disperse other Aboriginal people. In reality, these Aboriginal troopers were closer to being a paramilitary force.

The signage around the Creek talked about a massacre that had occurred in the area where these troopers indiscriminately killed other Aboriginal men, women and children. They saw their victims as traditional enemies rather than their fellow countrymen.

As I stood there and looked around me, I reflected on what horrible acts may have occurred that day. I decided to walk on and I came across this scene where I stopped for a while. I took off my backpack, grabbed a cold drink and sat for a while.

This image opened up for me which I then called “Sorrow”. Looking back now, the image is more about hope than sorrow. The sun was rising, rather than setting.

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In the Cool of the Morn'

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Fallen Child