When we drive to Rushworth from Geelong, we pass through Bacchus Marsh to Gisborne, and onto the Calder for a stretch, before turning off, just past Kyneton, heading for Redesdale and Mia Mia, then finally Heathcote and Colbinabbin before arriving at our destination. It’s a pretty drive.

The area between Bacchus Marsh (I always think of the tale of Maggie Spence and the cafe, and her years of hiding, after fleeing in the night, but that’s a story yet untold, kept up my sleeve), and Gisborne is particularly beautiful, with its high roads and thickly wooded hills shadowed by clouds, with the sneaking vistas of the merrimu reservoir on the other side.
Al and I passingly dream of living somewhere there, in a farmhouse straddling the two, on some sloping green land. Al thinks that it would be a forbidding place in the winter though, windswept and icy, and then he says just what was conjured in my mind with that observation, that it would be a good place in that weather to sit and reread Wuthering Heights.

A lonely, wind swept, beautiful place to call home. I love the ways in which we think alike.

Joining up with Grace at #FYBF today