9 Dec 2013
It is a place we have visited every year since our first babe was small. With each new year we see subtle change. The landscape has surrendered to the elements and moulded into gentle new curves. Trees may have fallen, new ones taking root in their ancestors' compost. Livestock may have been moved to greener pastures and new friends may have come to join the menagerie. Old ones may have passed from this world. It is ever evolving and such a metaphor for life.
And with each visit our little family has changed. With swollen belly and a toddler in tow we explored this meandering space for the first time. Wisps of nature were fossicked and gum boots sloshed about in icy creeks. The there were four of us bundled up in handmade woollens as we to-ed and fro-ed in the wilderness. This time fires were made, fruits were harvested and simple play nourished us all.
It is a gentle holiday. One of lulling about on picnic blankets watching farmyard friends graze. Of quiet reflection and dreaming for the times ahead. With no touristy sight seeing to lure us, nor quirky cafes to sample we sit and we watch; we still ourselves. We teeter on the edge of boredom and it is in this rare space that comes the deepest relaxation and energising contemplation. Plans for the future percolate under vast limbed trees and slowly unveil as we sip cup after cup of tea. We wonder what our family will look like next year when we visit.
Each year we pack lightly and head to Wattle Gully Farm for adventure and soul nourishment.