As the sun sets in a small park on the outskirts of Bundaberg, a young mother says goodbye to her two children and heads off to work as their father reads them a bedtime book in a tent.
Nearby, an elderly man starts a generator to run a nebuliser that "keeps me alive" before the cool night air torments his lungs.
Cars roll in, and young couples unpack their swags for the night.
Hinkler Lions Park isn't a campsite for paying visitors but the last refuge for the changing face of homelessness caught in the crossfire of Australia's housing crisis.
Nine young children are among the residents who live day-to-day, unsure about where they will go next.
Julie Ann Tucker, 68, and her partner Ron Hughes, 71, have called this park home for several months, but they say the worst part is knowing they're better off than others living there.
"The toughest thing about living like this is watching women and children homeless and struggling," Mr Hughes said.
"Believe me, it's very hard being homeless. I rode rodeo in my younger life, and it was nowhere near as hard as this now."
The couple became homeless after falling behind in their rent and started sleeping in their swags in parks before being gifted a caravan from a local community fundraising effort.
Mr Hughes, who relies on a nebuliser for his lung condition, said he and his partner were still shocked to see the new arrivals to the park each afternoon.
"I always thought Australia was the lucky country, and I was proud to be an Australian," he said.
"But I put my head down in shame.
"I'm ashamed to call myself an Australian. That's how bad it's got."
Life seems to pass by these temporary residents of Hinkler Lions Park with a considered glance.
Visitors are only supposed to stay 24 hours in the free camp rest site, but those staying longer live in fear of being removed every time council workers turn up.
So far, they've been left alone.
Planes come and go from the neighbouring airport, while holiday-makers and businesspeople look down on the camp from their windows.
Commuters pass on the busy Childers Road, and young would-be professionals study at the university just across the road.
Michael Johnson said he moved into the park a month ago, straight from having surgery to implant heart stents at the Bundaberg Hospital.
"There's no accommodation. You got a waiting list as long as a toilet roll," Mr Johnson said.
"There's nowhere to go, so I'm stuck here waiting for another heart operation.
"I had to pay medical bills, and I ended up staying here to save a bit of money because I can't afford accommodation."
Like Mr Hughes and Ms Tucker, Mr Johnson said his main concern was for those surrounding him.
"I've given up," Mr Johnson said.
"There's families, children, oldies, disability — we need someone to speak up."
Community offers hope
For these neighbours, the discussion often turns to possible solutions to fix their problems, but no one has any realistic answers.
In the meantime, commuters sometimes pull in with blankets and food or other offers of assistance.
A team of volunteers rocks up weekly with a trailer barbecue to start preparing meals as the last of the daylight fades.
Matt A'Bell from the Christian-led Restoration Centre sees a lot of new faces each week.
He also doesn't know how to fix the homelessness crisis. All he can do is offer hope.
"A meal is one part of it, but the other part is people feel seen," Mr A'Bell said.
"We just want to make them feel human and seen and loved.
"We just want to give some hope. It's happening in other places, but we are just here to help in our little part of the country."
Years on the waiting list
For Storm Brydon, who has been living in parks across Queensland for "12 months or so", hope is in short supply.
The mother-of-nine said she had been on the public housing waitlist for four years, trying to be reunited with her family.
"I need a place to live. I'm trying to get my kids back, and housing has been one of the major issues in trying to get them back," Ms Brydon said.
"I've applied in all different places up and down Queensland between Brisbane and Bundaberg.
Ms Brydon shares a campsite with Jason Bossom, who said he had been on the public housing list for three years.
"The toilets are here, but there's no shower, and the weather," he said.
"And food, we don't have a fridge, places we camp there is no power.
"We have to buy food every day, you can't buy milk or frozen food."
Still, the pair is making do with the little they have.
"I don't know what's next, but hopefully, it's a house," Ms Brydon said.
