Etched in skin

Tattooed deeply in my skin, crossing my heart, are three symbols, running boldly across my chest adjoining my mob name. Each mark is representative of the braford breeders before me, my Parents, Grandparents and Great Grandparents, those that fought and strived for the joy of a new calf. Each mark representative of where I have come from, who I’m accountable to and my passion.

Recently, I’ve been fascinated by agriculture overseas. Having attended the wool sales the other week and seeing old photos of men in suits, combined with the celebration and joy of winning cattle shows overseas, it’s hard to see the motivation left here amongst the drought playing out. It’s hard to see the why, the hook, for the future.

So in searching for something to tie myself and my thoughts too for now, I looked far afield to a new symbol. I’ve follow the virtual journey of seasons unknown to me, gazing upon landscapes so foreign, not realising that what I needed was firmly etched deep in skin.

Although a decision made years earlier by my Grandparents, the relevance to me is striking. I haven’t had the opportunity yet to ask why these 3 little marks and what they mean to them, yet to me they are the signs of reflection, aspirations and work.


The pressure and reflections from 60,000 years  in the past, the aspirations of 60,000 years into the future, all coming back to this time… Now. Like the connector of the past and the future, the pinnacle point in time to make things right and the joiner for the next phase, all reflected in three symbols once placed on the hides of cattle.

From toying with the brand of my Grandparents, to roaming the farm and making it more drought proof, this week has been more farm focused than others. From being in the paddock with Izz, adjoining vineyards for a wedding, to vaccinating calves and providing a new food source for the cows, each element has been focused around the industry I love.

For now, rain falls slowly, alluring more hope as predictions extend the week. The brand which once marked braford cattle on a property just out of town sits stagnant waiting for revival. Cattle sit at Bell awaiting movement back to the Coast. And time slowly ticks creating unease and inspiring patience.

>|< – the time is now.

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