Uma and Jetson...

Horses and children, I often think, have a lot of the good sense there is in the world.

~ Josephine Demott Robinson

You know what they say, how 'time flies', how one day you'll be kicking back drinking up life as it is, you'll blink, and on opening your eyes everything has zoomed 10 years or so into the future? Yeah, you know how they say that? Well, it's true. Between the past and the present things kind of just speed past, it all becomes a bit blurry, the timeline melds into itself and we ask ourselves "where did it go?" "What happened? It can't be so!" Such is life. 

And so it is when I look at these images of Uma. Uma is my niece and just turned 13. 13!! Thirteen!!! I can scarcely believe it! Still caught in that strange dreamland called childhood but on the precipice of entering that even stranger transition period into adulthood called the teenage years, she embodies growth, change, and time passing into something else. I look at her and I see a curious girl growing into a vivacious, sensitive and thoughtful young woman who is fearless in her approach to life. 

Uma loves horses, and she loves one horse in particular - Jetson. I'd heard a lot about Jetson before taking these photos, but seeing Uma and Jetson together made me realise what a special connection they have. I've always been uncomfortable around horses but I was quickly put at ease by their quiet understanding of each other. There is something very beautiful about witnessing the bonds between humans and animals and watching Uma upon Jetson's back, galloping up grassy hillsides, brought me closer to understanding her love of horse riding. It engages all of the senses. It requires trust, cooperation and a pureness of heart. There is freedom there, abandon, wildness and love. 

xx

Horses lend us the wings we lack.

~ Author Unknown

Portrait of a Place: a weekend at Grandma's...

One of the luckiest things that can happen to you in life is, I think, to have a happy childhood.

~ Agatha Christie

I was blessed with a happy childhood. Well, mostly. Let's not pretend that there weren't moments of turmoil and upheaval, but on the whole my childhood was pretty damn sweet. I was a shy child who liked nothing better than to escape into worlds of my own making. Very few people were allowed into these worlds and even fewer cared that I dwelled within them at all. My grandfather was one of the few who would follow me into places I'd imagined, and sometimes he'd take me to places he'd imagined too! 

The family farm, outside of Yarraman in the southernmost region of the South Burnett, was a fertile place for the growth of a vivid imagination in the mind of a child. Growing up I visited my grandparents here many times a year and even when I visit now I am transported to another, more innocent, time. My grandfather died several years ago. The orchard has disappeared save for a lemon, mandarin and an avocado tree. The flower beds have been filled in with lawn and the vegetable garden is grown over with grass. The chook pen has been removed to make room for another paddock for my uncle's cattle. The great wall of pines that towered over the backyard have been cut down. The milking shed is in a state of disrepair and the old home that I know so well is worn from the ravages of time. I look upon the place with much nostalgia for a time that has passed. The decay and deterioration remind me that all I have now will one day be transformed.

This weekend we decided to visit the old family farm and drive up to what was once our favourite picnic spot in the Bunya Mountains. It was a lovely weekend, filled with long chats with Grandma, picking avocados, photographing the country sunset, watching the baby steer frolicking in the paddock, bushwalking and tripping down memory lane. I took my camera with me and found myself feverishly documenting the place. It was like I wanted to capture the last bits of magic that remained here for me before they were transformed beyond recognition.

These photos are a portrait of a place. A place that I once called 'home'.

The western view from the Bunya Mountains...

The forest inside the park was so lush and dense after many months of rainfall. I hadn't seen the Bunya's with this much water since I was a teenager. The forest was so alive and we spent a long time walking through trees and over streams...

The image below is of a place called Coomba Falls. This is where my grandparents met all those years ago. It was a popular swimming spot and gathering place in the summer months. It's such a beautiful gem of a spot and I'm glad that it is little known by those other than locals.

Grandma Beryl...