A fortuitous solo trip to the northern tip of the continent, with five nights spent in the Iron range. Baptised by the dirt, refreshed by the rainforests, pestered by the mosquitos. When the piecing call of eclectus parrots still rings in my ears, I have already been enveloped by the drilling cold of Canberra. Still remember that morning before departure, parked by the Gordon creek, dreamed about a displaying riflebird. Not sure if I transformed into the bird, or the bird sneaked into my soul. You try, you fail, you fall, you stand up again, there is no regret. Such is life.