What they'll never tell you about making a tree change.
Originally published on Domain
The first thing I see every morning, after my lightly snoring husband, are the naked limbs of soaring deciduous trees outside my window, framed beautifully by the lofty McIvor Ranges in Central Victoria.
Two years and two months into our “tree-change fantasy” the leaves have fallen and are mulch in the ground.
My husband Trevor and I moved to the country part out of necessity, and part out of dream. We never felt at home in the concrete and the congestion of the city, and when our sleepy town of Pakenham became a suburb of Melbourne, we knew it was time to leave.
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