Part 2: In lieu of words…

To catch up on this story, read Part 1 first.

 

The last (and actually, only) time I ever saw Red Kangaroos, they were doing this:

 

 

Naturally, the one I hit with my car was not acting so casual. But it was nonetheless just as beautiful, magnificent, in the wild and quite oblivious to me.

While I gather my thoughts on how best to honour and present what the experience has delivered me, I thought it’d be cool to show you – in pictures and few words – the journey I had already been on.

See, Kangaroo is very much to do with “balance in the mob/with Mother Nature”. It’s not lost on me that I had just been learning about my┬ámob and putting things together more in my mind. Accepting my forebears even more, appreciating what I have now in my present life, realising the excesses in my life (both material and emotional)…

So please come on this visual tour with me for now and I will post the rest of the story – the journey’s end, really – this week. Promise.

 

When you stand on the front porch, this is what you see. Everything you see in the following photos is from farmland now run by the family. It’s mind blowing on many levels. It is also a brilliant way to allow a sense of deep significance… and insignificance. All at once.

 

Time for a quick prayer, anyone?

The last 3 surviving pieces of my great grandmother's tea set – so fine you daren't breathe near it – once used daily and cherished by people all now long gone. Makes my possessions feel so unimportant.

I even love the carpet, well worn and tired as it is. Note the old iron doorstop. LOVE.

The family's first home on this land, where my great uncle was raised

 

And his bedroom was this tin addition

Abandoned, superseded farm equipment

They parked the cart one day and… just never used it again, I guess?

Ok, then it began to get creepy… Going into an underground cellar in an abandoned old ruin = not my best idea of fun.

We were stunned into humble, respectful silence looking around these former homes

Personal effects in a bedroom. A lady's shoe, a side table, a bottle of port (surely not also the lady's…?).

The shearers' quarters

Five shearers, two weeks = 9,000 head of sheep shorn.

Another day, another beautiful ruin

The "front yard"

And there goes the driveway. Puts a whole new meaning to the phrase "just putting the bins out"….

The only lived-in homestead on the property. And she's a beauty.

 

Part 3 is now here.

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