Dust and Brown Hankies

A blog post from the Redbanks Seven Stars Hotel Field School

Nothing can describe the sheer amount of dust present on a field trip. Yes, it is to be expected that there is dust and dirt in a paddock, but what I and many others were not prepared for during the field school was the way the dust infiltrated every aspect of your entire existence.

The dust crept into every pore, every eye and every nose present at that site. It blackened faces and lungs alike. No man, woman or undergrad could escape. Let’s just say, if we had auditioned for Hey Hey Its Saturday, Harry Connick Jr would not have approved.

The dust became so large part of our daily routine that any hope for a dust-less future was lost.

Food turned to dust in our mouths and water to mud. All five senses were overtaken by the earthy tones of endless dust.

When the winds picked up, they would bring about clouds of brown torture, lashing at our faces and exposed limbs. Excavation brought about the creation of greater dust storms, and post-grads and undergrads alike could only close their eyes and continue digging.

Nearing the end of the week, only when the excavations had become more extensive, was an escape revealed. Trench A reached depths of over a metre and provided shelter for anyone lucky enough to have a trowel on that side of the fence.

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