![]() ![]() In 1934, a fatal encounter on the rock with an Anangu man called Yokununna would not only ripple across history. ![]() A white policeman with a Northern Territory beat, he patrolled his slice of the ‘wild west’ when the interior was overwhelmingly seen by Europeans as a landscape of savageness and savages that it was their duty to tame. Long before it became a thing of conquest for world tourists, or a kitsch symbol to repurpose for shirts, knick-knacks and spiritual glamping retreats.Īnd long before Uluru would become entangled with the life of William (Bill) McKinnon. ![]() Long before its westernised naming after a South Australian Premier. Long before European explorer William Gosse began a cairn on its summit. ![]() Of ancient arkose rock, formed 500 million years ago beneath a vanished ocean, its presence on the land has been a living place and a sacred site for the Anangu people, its traditional custodians, for tens of thousands of years. You can’t see it and not feel some sense of the sublime. Soaring up from the flat, far-reaching plains of the centre, a huge ferrous-red form under a broad sky. ![]()
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