I’ve been criss crossing this big State, what I consider to be, at the best time of the year.
Spring should be here next month. The countryside in the Midwest is awash with wildflowers. At Geraldton Airport there is a huge spill of black eyed susans across from the tarmac. In the Wheatbelt the canola fields are flourishing. Sadly, the rain has reached some farms and not others. It is interesting to hear folks speak with some optimism that rain will come. They say this without rancour despite their neighbour’s farm shining yellow with gold.
I’m learning about the weather from farmers. The rain can come as predicted, while others wait. In a farming community where towns are barely 50 kms apart, this must be difficult to experience. But, community spirit is strong. As is optimism.
Over the years, my optimism has been nurtured by sunrises and sunsets. It is when I adjust my compass. While driving to the Wheatbelt, a hazardous journey, I constantly looked in my rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of sunset. I usually try and beat the sun by arriving at my destination before it disappears. Still 20 kms from my destination, this time, I had to stop and take a picture. Against an open paddock, the sunset was stunning. And, once again, I found my field of gold.
May you find what you are searching for.
Until next time
a dawn bird
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