Central West NSW

There are mornings that take your breath away. Driving through milky fog, ghosted cattle appear and fade into the background. The road stretches no more than 50 metres ahead, a reminder to trust the way forward and believe that the destination will eventually reveal itself.

Trees are cloaked in thick white coats, silver grass droops with dew before it disappears as the car cuts through the landscape like a scythe. Subdued, canola blooms in the next paddock on this cold morning, awaiting the sun to shake off the vestiges of winter.  As yet, the sun is nowhere to be seen.

Thirty kilometres further and the fog has cleared. The sun is out now, but the air still bears a chill. Rows of vines grow along taught wires and they stretch their arms towards each other, as if reaching to a kindred soul. Still bare, the neat rows extend up hills into the distance. It will be several weeks yet before green shoots appear.

Winding through scraggy scrub growing on undulating hills, the landscape now is rocky and the soil poor. There’s more roadkill along this section of the trip as animals look for food along the green verge. There are foxes, roos and even a wombat with its stiff legs in the air. I’m driving through an animal graveyard.

Small villages are scattered at varying distances. Some have freshly painted houses with proud gardens, others are forlorn and neglected. Rusted sheds collapse onto themselves, and ancient farm machinery has been left to decay. Driving through the outskirts of a larger settlement, the aftermath of a deadly flood is visible a year later. Debris from the surge of water still clings onto farm fences, once vibrant shops have been abandoned and brick foundations without corresponding houses point to the slow road to recovery that this town faces.

Thirty-five km on, my destination comes into view. A large inland town, it is a rural hub servicing farms and smaller settlements. The town is known for its grand heritage buildings and splendid parks along the river and a short lived gold rush back in the 1860s. Its roads lead to towns much further afield – outback NSW and eventually Queensland to the north. It is a place where trucks rumble along a highway which dissects the town more efficiently than its river ever could.

It has taken two hours to drive no more than 140km through this part of the Central West. It is a region known for its excellent food and wine production as well as agriculture. To me, it has been home for seven years and I know it best for its crisp winter mornings and bucolic beauty. I shall miss it when the time comes for me to leave.