Aboriginal Didgeridoo – A Living Echo of the Land

When I was 18, I traveled to the Australian outback, young and open in that way you only are once in your life. That’s where I met him—a quiet, radiant man whose presence had gravity. He was the son of a renowned Aboriginal didgeridoo maker, carrying his father’s legacy in his hands and in his breath.

We spent the better part of a day together. He shared stories, demonstrated how to coax breath into sound, and taught me how to circular breathe for the first time. And then, he did something I didn’t expect—he invited me to go on walkabout with him.

I asked, “When?”
He said, “Right now.”
I asked, “For how long?”
He said, “For as long as we go.”
I asked, “What will we bring?”
He said, “Nothing.”
I was confused. “What about water? Food?”
He smiled and said, “The land will provide. We’ll find it.”

I didn’t go. I was afraid. And of all the choices I’ve made in my life, not going with him that day is one of the few I truly regret.

But I didn’t leave empty-handed. I traded a watch for one