Three Little Pigs

I was at Adel's Grove in central Queensland, bang in the center of Boodjamulla (Lawn Hill) National Park. I am no stranger to this prehistoric landscape comprised of pandanus-lined waterways and tropical vine thickets and every time I find myself drawn into it I am awestruck. I lose myself following the meandering streams, hoping to find their origin which may be a fissure in a rock or a natural hot spring.

This time it was different. Something was not quite right. Something was missing. Normally I am accustom to pushing my way through thick Savannah grass along the waters edge. Here there was nothing; it was desolate. Worse than that, it had been pulverized to barren wasteland. I am embarrasseed to say that it took some time for me to realise what had done the damage: Feral Pigs. I could hear them tearing strips of bark off trees and breaking branches. It was not long before I could hear them all around me; grunting and recklessly smashing their way through what little undergrowth was left.

What a shame it is that such a stunning environment can be so severely damaged. To see the extent of damage to which I refer, hop on to youtube: More Than Three Little Pigs