We woke early, loaded Izz into the float again last weekend. A little weary from the early starts and a passing storm the night before, she eventually made her way onto the trailer for the journey to Nabiac. After a trip over the mountains, we arrived a little weary ourselves and got straight into washing the feathers that glide within the wind. The Nabiac Show was in town.
As we walked up the road to the Showground, I couldn’t help but glimpse at the cattle section. A little disappointed that we didn’t have cattle to show, but mostly just inspired by the Braford cross cattle one of the school’s had. I’m slightly biased- our bull is the father of these cracking animals out on display, but their was no questioning their elegance and muscle as they walked into the ring.
6 years ago, our family started sponsoring a youth section at the show, in an attempt to get youth more involved in agriculture and to strengthen cattle breeding in the area. This far in, it’s hard to argue with the results. We’ve had kids continue to pursue their dreams and keep in touch with us while they are out working on remote stations, have seen schools thrive and cattle teams grow to ensure they take out the trophy and smiles light up the show ring with surprise.
It’s this passion and love for agriculture that I love to share, what I dream of when I think about our future. It’s the green field, generational lens that I think we need to build, right there in action. After the show had settled, country music guided the way back home. The car auto-piloted back to the coast for lunch and some shopping, before one more trip home.
The rest of my week was spent chasing reception after a storm wiped out the towers in town. At least the views put everything in perspective. It’s hard to think of a world less digitally connected now, and more connected through people than devices. So as the reception faded, so too did the noise in the town. Is being tied to these devices really the world we want to create?
The rest of the week was spent working, mostly with city views and agendas. The rush is always hard to get back into, traffic reflected at home only by a moving tractor and building shadows reflecting attitudes on the street. No connection, just bleak gestures appearing on empty suits, as the RM Boots try tying people back to some country feeling.
Thank God I’m a country boy.