It has been a little while since I posted, instead spending a few weeks reflecting over the where this blog started, what it has achieved and what I hope for its future. I’ve been pondering it a lot, whether it’s adding value and meaning like I intend, whether it captures the elements I seek to share.
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.
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.
I've spent way too long this week in a state of flux, riding a rollercoaster of uncertainty and fear over misjudgment. I'm not quite sure where the week has gone, how days have fed into nights and back to days or where the caffeine has overtaken my conscious mind. And yet is the stress really all worth it? Long term, perhaps. Just not now...
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.
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.
Surrounded by the buzz of university, I became interested in the craze of money attributed to the hopeful lifestyles of doctors, accountants and lawyers. It was a stark comparison to much of my childhood, but the dreams of hustle and prosperity was evident from the families of the apparent elite. Money, and the status associated with it, seemed to rule placements and the future. I became addicted, dreaming of ferraris and large houses, captured by things, rather than feelings.
The garden has started to thrive despite the lack of rain, with broccoli forming and the other plants growing quite well.
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.
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.