Despite a few recent sleep-limited nights, it's hard not to feel empowered and driven. I can see exactly what I want, I've been dreaming of where I need to be and the ducks fly seamlessly into row formation. It's here, now. The ridge line promising guidance.
Anachronisms created mixed feelings this week, focused on farming across seas. While being exposed to some of the newest ag-tech at the MobileTech Conference this week in New Zealand, it's hard to remove the thought of Braford cattle roaming ancient Worimi country and Clydesdales pulling antique carts. Tech, or no tech, this joy keeps me awake at night.
I'm still not sure the ground is there, other than in soul and spirit singing out loud. Country tunes have guided me across familiar roads, as my phone revives from exhaustion from the constant calls. My tyres are tired from running, weary eyes peer outside the bags amassing under my eyes. But this week, I wouldn't have it any other way.
I'm sitting in our new home. Views of the Buccan Buccan play through the rear windows as paint lines walls throughout. A soft breeze continues to provide life and flow here. Each breath an opportunity for new life.
Penchant an opportunity to remind me of the drive, the nub of this week has been watching myself move each day from beyond. Each footstep taken, word uttered or memory reflected, all in awe to the vision splendid of the past. As this country grows around me, I bathe in the enlightenment of tragic pasts and hopeful tomorrows, singing familiar songs in foreign tongue.
Being back home this week has helped distil my thoughts from the last few, allowing time to see the stars and connect a few dots. A different time, a different momentum, all stacking up to what we see. And then eventually to what we don't. The past, left stagnant for what was, urging the creator to pay respect for the future.
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.
The sun awakened to the waves crashing, calling for the beach and nearby dolphins to bathe in Worimi beauty. Nearby, a child's laughter warms the day, as pelicans play for attention and a feed. Saltwater, saltwater people, owned by this glorious county.
It's been a week since work finished, a time to celebrate and share, relax and unwind. The coffee consumption has slowed, naps occur frequently and the sun's rays kiss the skin more often. Worimi country lights up, translucent water illuminating dolphins and ancient trade routes, the nearby beach sparkling and glistening in the sun.