I always love it when I spend time in another place with other people, especially if they live very different lives. This week-end was one of those times. I spent the week-end on a farming property in rural Victoria. Gum trees, green paddocks courtesy of recent and generous rain falls, canola and wheat crops, sheep and new lambs and Australian landscape as far as the eye can view.
Feeling like a real ‘townie’ in my smart leather boots instead of well-worn R M Williams, I bounced over paddocks and down muddy lanes with our friends and hosts whilst touring the property. We chased an arrant ewe and its’ very new twin lambs who were outside their home paddock, walked along a creek with strong running water, took a spin around a near-by lake in an open-roof sports car (not mine one of the farm owners), drank red wine and watched the sun set over the distant paddocks.
One can be forgiven for forgetting the bigger, tougher issues in life when dropped in idyllic and picturesque country side such as the one I was in for the past couple of days. Space and plenty of it can feel so relaxing and stimulating at the same time. It somehow changes the brains responses to everyday things. I found myself thinking how delightful it would be to live in a rural setting where the norms are different and the pace of life seems to resemble a gentle orchestra playing on a soft summers night.
The orchestra faded as we journeyed down the highway toward home. By the time we turned our mud-splattered car into our house in town I was making plans in my head about how to wash the mud off. Inside the door the answering machine is beeping, a friend needs me to ring her, the house is cold and we have to unpack the overnight bags. A disinterested discussion about what to eat for dinner and then a dash to catch the news at seven o’clock.
You see, it doesn’t take long for the magic to disappear. Once the space changes the normal routine rules. The rooms in our house seemed pokey and I missed the grand view of the paddocks for as long as it took to unpack my overnight bag. I did love being outside my own space and seeing and enjoying the best and fun side of rural life for a short time.
But, I know I’ve been there in the best of times, it’s not year round perfection and farmers have hard times. The space is always there but the seasons change everything. During long hot summers when the crops are harvested and the sun dries the lush green carpets to a crackling brown, the snakes come up from the near-dry lake and the garden so naturally beautiful in winter becomes lifeless and needy. It’s hot, airless and the worry for rain begins all over again.
Still, the time spent in a ‘big space’ was wonderful. It was fun, nurturing and I’m grateful that it’s out there when I have a need to escape my ‘little space’ from time to time.
Oh I enjoyed recalling similar, idyllic visits to rural Victoria. What I’m taking from this piece is to enjoy the present moment in all it’s glory. As you say, this too shall pass and harder times will return. But for a short time, how wonderful to share the day with family and friends.
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An inspirational and nurturing piece. I loved it. History’s most famous gurus have advised us to ‘live in the moment’. Advice I like but rarely heed. Your lovely story reminded me that this is what I need.
I love those baby lambs. I love the space and serenity of your visit. What a bonzer year for farmers if they are not in flood. Scenery is great for the spirit but its not where we really live, not even the farmers with their ongoing gamble with nature. Thanks for sharing Heather.
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