In the last month we have been up early every single morning.  We have taken note of the sunrise,
the frost and the occasional fog.

We have joined our local horse community in all the dust and grit of campdrafting and gymkhana events.

We have ambled along behind mobs of sheep at a pace just right for observing our world and discovering treasure, such as an emu nest.

We have eaten no nonsense food in the paddock, washed down with warm drinks while everyone takes a break from the sheep work.

 

 

I have picked green things from my garden and rescued chillies from frosted chilli bushes.

 

On the evening of the winter solstice, Annabelle skilfully manoeuvred a mob of sheep, all the while singing and talking to her horse while the final rays of light filtered through the dust.

 

After school George has cleaned troughs and worked alongside the men on his small motorbike.

We have laughed, cried, talked, planned and possibly had a few too many drinks with friends on Friday nights.

Last Sunday we tragically lost a mate who will never get the chance to do any of these things again.  I have not mentioned this to ask for sympathy, quite the opposite.  I have written this post to remind myself that life is out there to be lived to the fullest.

Ride the horses, listen to the music, take the photos, keep in contact with your friends, make that wood stack, wear pretty things, renovate the caravan and share what you can with anyone who appreciates it.

Happy Sunday, friends x