The drive home felt quieter.
It began with a rich red sunrise while the moon still hung low in the sky beside it — colours so vivid they barely felt real. A final burst of drama from the red dirt towns as we began making our way south again.
Monto became a repeat destination for lunch, this time Sunday lunch amongst locals at The Albert, before we continued through rolling countryside layered in soft winter tones that at times resembled an Arthur Boyd or Albert Namatjira painting stretched across the horizon.
Black cockatoos gathered noisily in roadside trees while coal trains with endless carriages seemed to almost reach from one town to the next.
A The roads themselves passed at a quiet cadence this trip. More horse floats than caravans. Irrigators slowly turning across distant paddocks. Cotton caught in roadside grasses after drifting loose from enormous truckloads that looked like giant marshmallows moving steadily along the highway.
Somewhere along the journey I was reminded that road trips seem to feed different parts of you all at once.
New landscapes ignites the imagination.�New conversations feeds curiosity & settles the soul.�Creativity is nourished when life slows enough to notice things again.
And time spent travelling beside your daughter — between dust, gemstones and wide Australian skies — feeds the heart in a way that is difficult to properly explain. xo
To Hold & To Have 