Farewelling the Quiet Stockman

The last Saturday of the month signals that it’s market time in the little town of Nabiac, where local farmers sell their goods proudly and share yarns about the season ahead. It always amazes me how the little town of a few hundred manages to attract such an influx of people, form seasoned farmers to those dabbling in the game.

Under the spell of folk music and back paddock tales, it’s hard to wonder how interaction in local communities and purchasing local has taken such a beating. Yet as the hawker carts of early years found out, sometimes the temptation of the exotic unknown is enough to trigger consumer response.

After a quick trip into Forster, we came back to word that the cattle markets lower- Dad had bought a few hereford heifers for a crazy price, with more pens of cattle on the way. So after a quick trip back to the saleyards, a few more cattle were snapped up. A little optimistic perhaps, but we spent the night playing cattle baron dreaming of the farms to come.

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After some time spent doing household jobs and a day working, it was time to make the trip down to Boorowa to farewell Greg. With sheep running through his veins and the natural environment held firmly in his heart, the stories at his funeral showed the passion and interest that I often saw as a kid. His quick wit and quiet humbled nature only built upon the larger than life character who cared so deeply for nature and animals. Somehow, the Quiet Stockman title his Dad gave him many years before the words to encapsulate it all.

Yet while it might be some time before that big moustache, RM boots and large akubra appear again, his presence was definitely felt that day with a soaking of rain for new growth.

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On the way back to Gloucester, with a day to make the trip, we pulled into Yass to look around and explore. By chance, we stopped in to the creators nest, a recent store housing local artisans, makers and creators. Like entrepreneurial hubs, bringing these people together to share ideas and to collaborate can only help grow our small towns and show the beauty and skills that still exist.

We settled on buying two local sheep photos, a tribute to the Quiet Stockman and the country he and I love so much.

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Lost.

All in time

Growth

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