I grew up on the Monaro, in southern New South Wales. It is not an exciting landscape. It’s old and tired. The bones of the land protrude through the surface in many places. Rainfall is low due to the configuration of surrounding ranges. The wide, naturally treeless valleys are thinly covered in an anorexic down of yellow grasses most summers, rarely lush, and often reduced to bare earth during the many dry spells.

It is a landscape that I love.