Under Wide Sky

The western plains of NSW aren’t just scenery—they’re a landscape of stories: ancient, enduring, and ever-shifting. They feel vast because they are; unpolished because they don’t need to be. And in that blunt honesty lies their pull.

When Landscape Becomes Character

A B. “Banjo” Paterson captured perfectly in The Plains:

“A land, as far as the eye can see, where the waving grasses grow... land of chance... where Nature pampers or Nature slays.”
It’s a reminder that this land has a pulse stronger than any soundtrack.
Here, the saltbush doesn’t stand still, and the sky isn’t a backdrop—it’s the stage. It rolls and expands and reshapes as fast as your thoughts slow.

Grounding—Feeling the Earth Beneath You

There’s a growing body of research into earthing, or grounding, which explores how direct contact with natural surfaces might reset the body’s rhythms and reduce stress. While the science is still evolving, many studies suggest that time in natural environments improves sleep, lowers cortisol, and boosts mental clarity.

Walking with Intention

At Gilgooma, walking isn’t about distance—it’s about presence. Step onto cracked red dust, follow a creek line, lean into a breeze thicker than wind, and you begin to measure time in seconds of quiet, not minutes of noise.

The land doesn’t demand attention—it earns it. And once you’re in its rhythm, the pace of everything else starts to change.

How to Notice (Without Overthinking It)

• Walk barefoot in the dust at dawn—feel the air on your skin and the crunch of country underfoot (beware the catheads!)

• Sit beside a trough or a scrub patch—notice how light plays on still water or through dry stems.

• Stand under the western sky at dusk—watch clouds stretch and stars slip into place without rush.

That’s grounding, even if you don’t call it that.

Why This Matters

In a world saturated with content, travel hacks, and curated views, being still—really still—can feel radical. But out here, that stillness is the default. And when you stop to pay attention, you realise the land’s been ready to speak all along.

Maybe the thing you’re looking for isn’t activity. Maybe it’s just space—and someone giving you permission to take it.