Whilst synonymous with the Kimberley, the Boab’s range actually extends into the Northern Territory. From Timber Creek onwards you start to see Boabs in the landscape, and how pleasing it was to refresh my acquaintance with this appealing tree at Big Horse camping ground on the banks of the Victoria River. “Welcome back”, the Big Horse Boabs said, “Nice to have you back in Boab country”. They are a curious and endlessly fascinating tree as they present in all shapes and sizes: skinny youngsters; congregations of gregarious middle-agers; portly elderly Boabs, with or without a mate or family members. Some are majestic-sized wine bottles, others are barrel-like, some have necks and others do not and some merge and grow together. All have a wonderful metallic sheen to their trunks, which change colour with the angle of the sun. Boabs evoke an air of stoicism in response to the comical but homely picture they present as well as in response to the unwanted carvings that their trunks have attracted since white fella entered the scene. Maybe my response to Boabs is partly connected to a Kimberley indigenous story, told to me last year, which goes roughly along these lines. The Boab tree was very pleased with itself and would always tell other plants that everything about the Boab was the most beautiful: its flowers were more beautiful, its fruits were more beautiful and no other tree could surpass the beauty of the silvery, shining trunk of the Boab. All the other plants gradually became depressed and sorrowful. One day an ancestral being travelled through the country and could see how depressed the plants had become. Discovering that the Boab was the cause of many plants’ unhappiness, the ancestral being pulled up the Boab and shoved it back into the ground upside down. Thereafter, the other plants began to flourish and the Boab remained with its roots in the air. To me,and many others they have high visual appeal and I’ll enjoy their company for the next month.