Time Tunnel

Glenn Shaw leans back against a huge fallen eucalypt, shaking his head. "I feel no need to go in," he says, black beanie pulled down low against the chill. "I'll just sit here and listen to the scrub." Wind roars in the canopy above and the sullen Tasmanian winter sky threatens rain or worse. In layers of thermals, waterproof trousers and parkas, gloves sodden from slippery branches, Shaw and other members of the local Aboriginal community have scrambled for an hour through steep rainforest to reach this spot in the island's wild southwest. Here at the base of a rough limestone...

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