Nundle Ring

My Mother has a piece of land looking out over the mountains in a small central NSW town called Nundle. Easter one year my friends and I went to visit for the town’s annual Gold Rush Festival. Nundle was alive with people, colour and music. In the back of an antique shop I found an old cobbler’s hammer—handle smoothed over with age and a roughed up face—beautiful to hold. This tool has already made so many things.