In Augusta, something fundamental about life is understood that’s lost or forgotten elsewhere. Here, respect isn’t a buzzword or a banner. It’s people greeting each other in the street. It’s preserving heritage and the environment even when resources are scarce. It’s savouring every last juicy bite of whiting or abalone or salty lick of chippy fingers.
Life is simpler here, but it’s also intricate. The Blackwood River streams in from 400-kilometres north-east, culminating in the glassy Hardy Inlet, home to countless species of waterbird and fish that comprise our rich ecosystem.
Walking trails well-trodden extend from here through town, bush and out to sea. Two oceans collide at Cape Leeuwin, where at the right time of year, thousands of whales migrate past. This place is raw and wild and unknown, but simultaneously at ease. And while other places grab for visitors with Instagram envy and expensive luxuries, we quietly attract them through our very nature.
The old come to revel in simple delights they’ve always known, the young to discover them anew. They’re things to be learned here, things we’ve run from. Things so simple, they’re easily ignored. Things about how to live.