Time has seemed to have caught up with me today, as this blog is marked a little later than normal. Clocks ticked with a few days in the city and imitated the horses moving in the round yard. Izz now moves with ease, oblivious to the once apparent sounds and movement.
At the farm, it's evident that the drought has made its mark along the Coast. Surrounded by burnt ground from a raging inferno, the land wilters, begging for the few metres of rainfall that normally meets the ground. Instead, metres of rain is replaced by metres lost from dams and it's hard to think of the once kneehigh green grass that used to make walking through the paddocks difficult.