This spot is sand and stunted mulga scrub a clump or two of spinifex; but yet, it is, around this friendly fire, the hub of many things that we should not forget.
Just what these are, in truth, depends on me; another head would hold a different store. The books and teachers who have set me free to summon here man's genius of yore - the best that all my species has to give - are only a selection. For my brain is limited. This place should not forgive my failings. For man may not be here again for centuries. Yet through me flows far more than poor black stone-age man could bring before.