She looked back at the letter.

I see I lacked decision. But more on that soon. Know I have not forgotten my Aussie rose, but I am holding you dear to my heart. Do not forget me.

With much affection, Lorenzo.

She folded the letter carefully and slipped it back into its envelope and away in her jeans pocket. As if she could forget him.

She strode back to check the solar pump that carried water to the cattle troughs in the front paddock. The red rocky ground lay bare, with only the occasional chewed tuft of saltbush. The only happy sight was the shiny surface of the solar panels soaking in the afternoon sun as they should.

New technology. It was so different from her parents’ days of clunky windmills, she thought as she dusted the panels, their strange flat faces now clean. They remained undamaged in the red desert. The sun beat down upon her hat and shoulders. Her son, Jock, had pestered for the panels and she admitted he’d been right, despite the cost. There was always more sun than breeze. She’d decided the panels were even oddly, bizarrely, beautiful, like strange square birds on the evocative landscape.

She turned to look behind her, and even in its barren state the land held beauty. It calmed her. The MacDonnell Ranges in the distance made the perfect backdrop to the open space. Stella savoured the perspective the purple-blue crags gave the expanse of desert.

Perspective.

It wasn’t just something she admired in her favourite Albert Namatjira painting. She and her daughter needed to appreciate there were other things in life than financially supporting the family’s dying station.

Stella squinted at the puffy clouds, which only very occasionally brought rain, and acknowledged the last few days had been unusual. But that was home for you. The family liked to do something unexpected, just like the weather. There’d been no rain since last January and none this month, so the soil had started to lift with the breeze. There might be a dust storm instead.

Teasing stratocumulus clouds had appeared on the western horizon and moved east quickly to cover the sky. It was more the feel you got in March than April, Stella thought, as she strode back to the truck. The wind lifted her hair and the temperature felt cooler against her skin, so maybe there was a chance they’d be blessed with a spot of moisture.

Jock normally did the bore run, but he and Hana had gone into Alice Springs for a few days for an ultrasound. The next generation for Setabilly Station. Jock had married Hana in a rush, and Stella still struggled with their youth, though Mim had whooped and danced when she heard because young blood was the future out here.