Under this massive camphor-laurel is Greg’s favourite spot for lunch. He chugs the old Massey-Ferguson around the track past the top dam, parks her in the shade, clambers down for a well earned rest and a feed. Invariably, Molly has packed his favourite, his current favourite for, although some may doubt it, Greg does occasionally change. His favourite of the moment consists of four slices of Helga’s Pumpkin Seed loaf, spread with pure butter. He does choose ‘Low Salt’ in a concession to the health-nazis. This comes wrapped in cling-wrap. Beside it in the plastic lunch box, is a deep red truss-tomato and a handful of the latest designer green, baby spinach.
Greg assembles all this, leans back against the trunk of the tree, and takes a massive munch. As he chews, he lets his gaze ramble the beautiful countryside spread out before him.
It is good to be alive.