“I had a farm in (New South Wales)…”: A very famous story begins almost like that. Well, the commonality is its past tense, we no longer own the farm, and we traded the simple life in the bush for the aggression ridden gogogo mentality of the city. I’m still working on finding a new pace, now that I finally have some time to concern myself with such mundane mental hygiene affairs. It needs to be done, too. So without much further ado, here’s a collection of pictures from around the farm we used to own outside Narrabri:
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- The tree in the driveway
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- Gate to neighbours property and our old grain sheds
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- The tree marking the corner of our property with the Ningadhun in the background
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- The windmill bringing the water up from the bore
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- Cockatoos in the tree
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- Cockatoos in the tree
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- Water trough and fenceline. Our land went along the fenceline all the way to the tree line in the far distance…
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- Cockatoos in the tree
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- Sawn Rocks, not on our property, but pretty.
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- The windmill bringing up the bore water which was of excellent drinking water quality