Old cars, new calves and country roads

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.

Reclaim

On country I ponder my mark, the legacy that will be left and the moments of importance that play into the grand plan. I wonder about the daily actions required to reclaim country and society, rethink norms and, replenish and redream life across the Worimi Estate. Whether nature will restore and continue to teach, whether land will share stories from before and lead us forward, and whether culture will sing to bring us all on this journey for change.

There’s a lot you don’t know.

"There's a lot you don't know." It's a quote in which has swirled my mind during the week as I spend time watching kilometres tick over. Maybe, after the years of denial in fear, our Aboriginal blood has sang to the remainder of my Grandmother's body. Maybe now the secrets and trauma can start to heal. Maybe the minds are changing, and the rest can flourish.

Thankful for

After being called in early for a flight back home, we boarded a little before schedule, headed out toward Mudgee, before Taree. In an attempt to connect and learn, I yarned on the first leg. Then the second was in awe of the fire that took the Mid North Coast. A firestorm week, full of radio mismatch and constantly updating social media feeds. All while our Worimi land burned.

The Worimi Collective

After a change of plans last Friday, I stopped as the clock ticked and settled. For a moment, things caught up with me and dissipated, to be met by the drive back home for rest. Saturday provided that opportunity, before joining the path back to city visits and consults. A moment spared for recuperation until another travel-driven week.

The same earth.

We are embraced by the same Mother Earth, founded by Biame and built on Black Lore. Founded on principles guided by the land, our culture sings her songs, responds to the stories of the past and is guided by Elders. This is the same Earth, the same mapped landscape since eternity. Our guide.

Sharing is keeping

I called in Friday afternoon to spend some time with the horses, watching them connect and cherish their new friendship. A true gentle nature is more than evident, as they slowly share a pat and brush. Despite the hustle of a mobile phone connected life, these odes to the old times showcase and demand true connection.

Ahh, life.

The garden has started to thrive despite the lack of rain, with broccoli forming and the other plants growing quite well.

Gardeners delight

I pulled in back home around 12:30 Saturday morning, somehow the time from plane to car dragged as I waited for my bag and then a cab. The morning counted second hands too quickly before the back road through Krambach reached Wingham. The home of wisdom sits seemingly vacant while I gather my thoughts of happier times. If only time favoured now- perhaps it would still be home.

All in time

Polly seemed to ensure we didn't get much sleep Friday night, finding joy sleeping inside and being captured by the shadows forming outside. Before long the 5:30 alarm made itself known, shouting at the rooster for his sleep in. The next 30 minutes moved slow, and then it was off.

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