Surrealism

“It’s surreal” said the Sparrow.
(Nice word thought I - must try and use it sometime)
“Wot is? “ I asked.

“Driving across the desert, nothing but termite mounds for miles and miles.”
“True,! The animals only come out at night when it’s cooler” sez I.

We were waiting for the Silverback, so we could convene the Editorial Subcommittee and pick the photo for the day.

“Hello” he says “better late than never”
“Debatable!” said the Sparrow.
I held back a grin - it was very nearly dinner time.

“Slim pickings today” he lamented.
We had just spent a night in a dodgy hell hole of a caravan park guarded by a morbidly obese black dog called Panda. Needless to say we didn’t want to keep a photographic record.

After a cruisey morning drive, we had set up at Bitter Springs, a series of thermal pools surrounded by tall shady trees. A garden of Eden by comparison. Last time we were here they had a ‘freshie’ in the creek, but we heard the Rangers moved it on.

(Rangers in the outback do real work, like relocating stray crocs. Unlike their counterparts back home who mainly arrest law abiding dogs going for an afternoon stroll! Anyhow, I digress…)

“Have we got any photos at all?” asked the Silverback.
“I was experimenting with taking pano shots as we drove along” said the Sparrow. “They’re a bit shaky.”

“Dali would love them” said the Silverback.
The Sparrow laughed.
“Let’s pick one then. What about this one Enzo?”
I studied it.

“It’s surreal” sez I.