By the waters edge, a story swirls and seems to play out as it is told. The story written in the landscape proves the legitimacy of each word, confirming the time some 7,000 years ago. When the sea’s shore was over 120 kilometres from where it is now, it’s obvious this changing climate of ours is now speeding up.
This week started with an evening trip back to Boorowa for sheep work. The lambs this season are cracking, inspired by the bit of rain in the past few weeks. The wool on the ewes equally as good, as the farm thrives under Nan’s helm. Her work ethic still amazes me- scaling a hill or moving sheep with a seamless ease.
The rain fell as we were almost finished, the cold freezing particles to hint snow. Winter has set in at the little town and has started sharing her cool with the mountains.
It was then in to Canberra for a meeting before the drive back to Gloucester for a night. It’s easy to get caught up in the travel, harder to develop roots when there is so much to see and learn. The countryside offers protection, yet the aspiration of farming shares the heart beating moments.
It was then up to Valla Beach for the remainder of the week, a cultural men’s camp providing wisdom beyond means. The story starts with connection- mob and family.
Yesterday started with bark canoe building, the stringy bark fired to perfection. Each flare of steam a reminder of the past. Time for reflection and hope.
Rope tied for ends and mould, held firm to share the story of the trees. Bound to the testament of time forever. Those old uncles share their wisdom, guidance as we go- but you learn by doing you know.
Us Worimi mob build one to share, to be forever kept at the Karuah Land Council to inspire a new generation and another for Saltwater Freshwater. Inspired to have another crack, I’m hoping we can get our mob together to build again.
We don’t all have the same story but we connect. Blood and landscape forever entertain our history and life in this place.
Culture- you’ll look for it one day.