In the weeks before leaving Australia for a new life in America, I undertook a journey around western New South Wales.



This is the land between. Between lush, green metropolitan Sydney and the red dirt of the central desert. Between green and red are the yellow and orange of dry grass, mines and miles of open road.



This is a place of corrugated iron, heavy wood beams and barbed wire, where only the hardy survive.



This is the place of Broken Hill, Wilcannia, Tilpa and Bourke, where a town can be a pub at the junction of four sheep stations and a road can be two ruts through a field.