From Grief to Grace: A new chapter for Southern Wild Co

It started with the land. Always, it comes back to the land – its quiet beauty, its untamed edges, its whispers of resilience. Southern Wild Co was born from that spirit, a way to honour the Australian bush and its poetry. Over the years, it became more than a business; it was a home, a sanctuary, a reflection of a life shared with my partner Matt. Together, we built something that echoed the landscape we loved: raw, honest and deeply connected.

↑ The early days of Southern Wild Co with Matt and Boris on the verandah of the Shedquarters, shot for Country Style Magazine by Michael Wee.

↑ Contemplating a new chapter for Southern Wild Co, Rockley NSW

↑ A place with bones that speak of resilience and reinvention

↑ A final picture taken in the Shedquarters with Boris and baby Luca, styled by dearest Cheryl @albertandgrace and shot by Wesley Vorster.

But life, in its unpredictability, has a way of shifting the ground beneath you. Almost a year ago, everything changed. Grief came knocking late one night and in its shadow, I found myself navigating an uncharted terrain. Yet even in the darkest moments, there were glimmers – the unwavering loyalty of Boris and Luca, my chocolate labs, the kindness of strangers, the steadfast support of friends and family. It was these threads of connection that began to weave a new story.

I didn’t know the landscape of grief could be so vast, so consuming, until the night the knock came – the blue of a police uniform on the verandah, Boris madly barking at the intrusion. Matt was gone. Just like that. My world shattered into a silence that rang louder than anything I’d ever heard. Those first months, the solitude of the bush was both sanctuary and torment. The Shedquarters, once a haven for creation and comfort, now echoed with an emptiness I couldn’t fill.

But grief, for all its weight, is fertile ground. It’s the kind of soil that grows strange, unexpected things. One Wednesday night in October last year, amidst the clatter of cutlery and the lively chatter of conversation at the Rockley Pub, a snippet of talk drifted my way: the old bank might be up for sale. It wasn’t more than a passing comment, a fragment of someone else’s story. But later, back home, staring up at the sparkling Milky Way, it took root. An idea. A possibility.

I imagined the old Georgian building, its walls heavy with the whispers of history. I thought about the stories those stables might hold, tales of Cobb & Co coaches rattling in during the gold rush, of travellers brushing the dust from their coats. I pictured the bank and residence transformed into something new – a place where Southern Wild Co could thrive, where the spirit of Australia’s bush could be woven into every corner. The more I let the idea simmer, the more it became a beacon. Hope, at last, was taking shape.

By year’s end, I stood on the steps of the 1872 building, the keys cool in my hand. I’d bought a bank. And not just any bank, but a piece of Australia’s story, a place with bones that speak of resilience and reinvention. The decision to sell the farm and Shedquarters had been wrenching, but necessary. This move wasn’t just practical; it was symbolic. A bridge between the life Matt and I had built and the one I now have to carve out on my own.

The handsome stables, mirroring the footprint of the old bank and house, have become Southern Wild Co’s new creative studio. Their weathered timbers and whitewashed walls seem to echo the resilience of the land itself, ready to embrace a new chapter of creativity and light. Already, I see the light spilling in, the way it dances on the workbenches, illuminating scented wares that speak of gum leaves and salt spray, of wattle and smoke. The village of Rockley, with its historic charm and close-knit community, is breathing new life into the brand.

There’s something about old buildings. They hold you in a way that new ones can’t. Their walls are storytellers, their floors creak with memory. As I set about restoring this old place, I’m reminded daily of the passage of time, of what endures. The work will be slow, painstaking, but it feels right. Each coat of paint, each repaired brick and beam is an offering, a way of saying, “I see you, and I’ll honour what you’ve been.”

Southern Wild Co remains devoted to the land, to the stories of this place. In the seventh year of its life, the brand feels stronger than ever, its roots deep in the soil of this country. We’ll continue to craft rituals for the home, to celebrate art and poetry, and the flora and fauna that define Australia’s essence. But now, there’s an added layer. The history of Rockley, the spirit of this village, has woven itself into our narrative. And through it all, I’ve found a way forward.

Some days, the boys – Boris and Lucas – sit by the door, waiting for a shadow that will never return. Only Boris knew Matt and sadly, he never got to say goodbye. I sit with them, my hand in thick fur, and we wait together. For what, I don’t always know. But the waiting feels less hollow now. The bank, the old house, the stables, this new chapter – it’s all a testament to what endures. To hope, to love, to the beauty of beginning again.

And if I close my eyes, I can hear Matt’s voice, see his cheeky grin. “This,” he’d say, “was meant to be.” In my heart, I know he would have wanted it this way – a life steeped in resilience, love and the land that binds it all together.