Along new and familiar roads, the car's tyres moved to the beat of some country tunes and podcast pondering. It was a week of new thinking, new wisdom and new pushing, all on old country. But the words of a familiar folk named Sparkles caught me off guard with a simple comment- it's good for Boorowa.
On a centre stage I connected. Blessed, and in the presence of a greater strength, words flowed about my family, climate change and agriculture. I look back at my family's history and find hope. Hope for a better future. Hope for change.
By the waters edge, a story swirls and seems to play out as it is told. The story written in the landscape proves the legitimacy of each word, confirming the time some 7,000 years ago. When the sea's shore was over 120 kilometres from where it is now, it's obvious this changing climate of ours is now speeding up.
Counting time on through events, reminds me of the ticking stopwatch used to count grain. The contrast of hard hands to tie off fence wire, yet soft enough to cradle lambs and handle sheep. Although 12 months has passed, it's hard not to still feel your presence. A cracking season, healthy lambs and wool amassing faster than the period before. Still caretaking, still managing the landscape. The Quiet Stockman.
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 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.
Around a circle, we ran. Words ushered, chanting for inclusion and for acceptance. When entering the ring we listed the traits in which we give, those in which we hope to embody for now and into the future. Song and candle flickering started the embracement of this place, and soon the joy, with a paradoxical serious undertone, became apparent.