Rams roam in the front paddock along a tree lined driveway, connecting the Kenyu Road to the old farm homestead. Time trapped, stagnant, the old promising home seems a mere ruin to the naked eye. Yet in my heart, I know it promises much more.
After a quick yarn to the owners of the new hardware in town, I left the workshop where my Grandfather worked for 50 years, with photocopied picture in tow. I can't recall ever seeing it before, somehow hidden or forgotten in an old album, but there's something about it that makes me light up. With it, old facades embracing early model Holdens, a testament to the changing times.