One of my most physical memories of this time of year is the smell of harvest. On the weekend there was also a lot of petrichor mixed in! As we drove south through the wheat-sheep belt I saw harvesters standing still, abandoned half-way through fields as the rain shimmied around them. This field at Arthur River was already turned to stubble when we passed.
Barbed wire in an old but still functional fence at Arthur River. I love the texture of different materials as they age and change.