Doubtful Creek

by Margie Brace

I squeezed the van into the muddy ditch and walked nervously up the gravel road. The big semis were driving forward with drilling equipment surrounded by heavily equipped police with a looming presence. The trucks were pushing forward into the crowd. 

Local women were making tea and food. There was lots of mud and anxious faces. Philippe had tunnelled under the road and locked on with ‘The Dragon’, a metal pipe which prevented his release. The trucks would drive over him if they entered the site.  

Harmony was there with many dolls. The women were organised in a chant and the dolls were laid in front of the trucks to represent our children and the generations to come whose well-being would be sacrificed to the  Coal Seam Gas industry. My granddaughter was born the day I went to Doubtful  Creek. The 8th February 2013.