Lessons from the country
Every morning I go for a walk around our farm. It has been frosty of late, the early morning sky brindled with fingers of winter. I breathe in the smell of dust and eucalyptus and am alone with my thoughts, before the busyness of the day unfurls and sweeps me in its wake. It gives me time to reflect.
It has been said that crises release memories, relinquishing the collective wisdom stored from eras gone by. Lately, I’ve had vivid flashbacks of my grandmother, her relationship with the land and
