I have a few more photos to post because we went out to Uluru last night for the Sounds of Silence dinner. We dined under the stars of the Outback in perfectly warm weather with all our friends and the flies and other insects. It was a once in a lifetime kind of experience. This experience cost $195 per person, but it was included in our tour package; otherwise, it would be a shocking cost for dinner!
We watched mother Uluru redden slightly in the sunset. I took a lot of pictures, however, of child Kata Tjuta because the sun was setting behind her. Upon arrival, we were served champagne and given Aussie appetizers including kangaroo and crocodile. (Apparently Australia is the only country where people eat the national symbol.) A didgeridoo player filled the evening with Aboriginal music, and later some dancers performed a hunting dance. I took many photos of the sunset at that time. It came at 7:19 pm.
As it turns out, Gary, our solid scientific guy, has an imaginative streak. As we were watching the sunset over child Kata Tjuta, he said that the rock looked like a man lying down-head, big lips, belly, and feet. If you look at my photos of Kata Tjuta perhaps you can see this, too.
Then we walked down a lighted path to tables set with china and linens and electric candles. As the light dimmed, we watched the stars pop out as we chose food from the buffet.
Later an astronomer came, and the lights were put out. It was dark and beautiful and the stars overhead were truly the jewels of heaven. We saw the Milky Way so clearly, and the Southern Cross and Orion, and several more. I tried to capture that moment with my camera, but it didn’t work, so it will have to always be a wonderful memory. I always try to remember that Judy says we can’t capture everything, and that sometimes we just need to enjoy the moment. This was truly one of those times. Magic.
One last reflection: Aboriginal art is pointillistic, dot painting. They use the points of satay sticks to make dots of different colors to form patterns. Yesterday I made the connection of those dots to scenes in nature. I saw a painting that I could not photograph that looked like the topography of the land, and last night when I looked at the stars in the Outback, I could see where the points of light for artistic expression come for these ancient peoples-nothing less than the Milky Way casting its starry glow over the face of Mother Nature.
Palya is a word around here that means hello, thank-you, goodbye and anything else in between.
Palya sacred Uluru!