The Shearer has been working away for a while on a very large property up near Gladstone in the very far north eastern tip of Tasmania. I joined him for dinner one night mid-week and arrived on sunset. The weather was mild with no wind and picture postcard.
It's a 2 hour drive from home.
He cooked me a lovely stir fry with vegetables from our garden and then it's a pretty early turn in for exhausted shearers.
The nightly concerto of snoring from three bedrooms and the occasional bump and shuffle from the ladies in the shed were the only sounds except for the young working dog far away, on guard, probably barking at a possum.
Next morning it's an early rise and as the shearers head over to the shed, I start the 2 hour drive back to town.