“Darn,” I cursed. The tree had died, for we had forgotten to dutifully nurture it. I feverishly raced to get a bucket of water. Dousing the parched earth that supported the resolute death stick, a part of me knew my efforts were in vain. But just like that dead stick, I refused to concede it was all over.

On a recent rehoming I was taken down some dusty tracks; they wound this way and that, and as they did, my mind wandered with them. I was struck by the raw beauty that daily abounds as Louis Armstrong belted out “What a wonderful world” in my head.

“I think you need another pair of shoes,” someone commented as they looked down and saw the cable tie strapped firmly around my left runner. “No, no,” I replied, “It’s got a few more miles in it yet.” And I smiled.

In a tale worthy of a Hollywood movie, if not our very own spine-tingling novel, comes the rescue of the “fourth sheep”.

With so much pain and hardship already delivered into their young lives, Switzerland and Mozambique have found sanctuary and a fast friendship.

The often-invoked cautionary phrase reminding us to temper our actions begins, “History will judge us…” But should the better metric of how we behave today not to be judged by the way future generations will look back upon us, but by how the recipients of our actions today are impacted by them?

I am not sure what called me to the field that day, but I am mighty glad it did. Accepting the invitation of its lush green softness, I settled myself down.

What if we humans are meant to be the helpers and the healers of this world, not the hurters and harmers we have become? What if the animals on this planet are not here for us, but with us?

Whilst the capacity to appreciate beauty may at times escape our busy minds, it never leaves our hearts. It is always there, just waiting for us to reconnect.

On moving to our forever home here in the picturesque Macedon Ranges, not only did we secure tenure over 153 peaceable acres, but we too inherited a shipping container.