The sound of horses' hooves turns hollow on the farms west of Wirri. If a man can still ride, if he hasn't totally lost the use of his legs, if he hasn't died to the part of his heart that understands such things, then he should go for a gallop. At the very least he should stand at the road by the river imagining that he's pushing a horse up the steep hill that leads to the house on the farm once known as One Tree.
Fabulous Australian fiction! Not being much of a horsy person, I was so surprised and delighted by this story. You can see the landscape, smell the horses and feel the atmosphere at the dangerous and competitive high jump events at the Country Shows. Lightening strikes and flawed characters (who are strangely endearing) collude to produce one of the most raw and honest pieces of Australian writing that I have read for awhile.