I wore a light sweater to ward off the distinct chill of this Dry Tropics winter solstice morning as I cycled to Gleeson’s Weir in search of freshies – that is, freshwater crocodiles. I hoped ...
In late afternoon, the Ross River ran blue and full, its surface flecked with small waves whipped up by wind, the incoming tide pushing a blend of salt and fresh water upstream through Bicentennial Pa...
