The homestead at Myanga is buzzing with the sound of a million bees. They blanket a grape
vine speckled with wispy blossoms and jostle for space inside an ornamental poppy as big as
a peach. With so many flowers in bloom, the Nixon’s garden is bee heaven.
The homestead at Myanga is buzzing with the sound of a million bees. They blanket a grape vine speckled with wispy blossoms and jostle for space inside an ornamental poppy as big as a peach. With so many flowers in bloom, the Nixon’s garden is bee heaven.
It’s also a haven for the family as grass withers in the paddocks beyond the house. “To come in out of this dry weather and walk into the garden — it gives you hope,” Toby Nixon says. “You’ve only got to walk around and hear the birds to know you’ve got a healthy environment.”
It’s also a haven for the family as grass withers in the paddocks beyond the house. “To come in out of this dry weather and walk into the garden — it gives you hope,” Toby Nixon says. “You’ve only got to walk around and hear the birds to know you’ve got a healthy environment.”
It’s also a haven for the family as grass withers in the paddocks beyond the house. “To come in out of this dry weather and walk into the garden — it gives you hope,” Toby Nixon says. “You’ve only got to walk around and hear the birds to know you’ve got a healthy environment.”
Toby and his wife Jane were a new couple when they moved to Myanga 25 years ago - not long after he and his parents bought the property to form a 3800-hectare family partnership near Drillham in western Queensland. It took hundreds of tubes of gap-filler to patch the 80-year-old VJ walls (“we joke - gee Toby must love me to do that,” Jane laughs), and many, many litres of paint to transform the aqua and purple surfaces into a vivid shade of white. Then, it was onto the garden. “I feel if the soil is good and you combine certain plants, you can create little micro-climates,” Jane says, revealing what might be the secret to gardening in the bush. So among her hardy roses with exotic names like Duchesse de Brabant and Maman Cochet, she’s planted delicate flowers like foxgloves and salvias that would be more at home in the English countryside than their actual one on a cattle property out west.
Toby and his wife Jane were a new couple when they moved to Myanga 25 years ago - not long after he and his parents bought the property to form a 3800-hectare family partnership near Drillham in western Queensland. It took hundreds of tubes of gap-filler to patch the 80-year-old VJ walls (“we joke - gee Toby must love me to do that,” Jane laughs), and many, many litres of paint to transform the aqua and purple surfaces into a vivid shade of white. Then, it was onto the garden. “I feel if the soil is good and you combine certain plants, you can create little micro-climates,” Jane says, revealing what might be the secret to gardening in the bush. So among her hardy roses with exotic names like Duchesse de Brabant and Maman Cochet, she’s planted delicate flowers like foxgloves and salvias that would be more at home in the English countryside than their actual one on a cattle property out west.
Toby and his wife Jane were a new couple when they moved to Myanga 25 years ago - not long after he and his parents bought the property to form a 3800-hectare family partnership near Drillhaminwestern Queensland. Ittook hundreds of tubes of gap-filler to patch the 80-year-old VJ walls (“we joke - gee Toby must love me to do that,” Jane laughs), and many, many litres of paint to transform the aqua and purple surfaces into a vivid shade of white. Then, it was onto the garden. “I feel if the soil is good and you combine certain plants, you can create little micro-climates,” Jane says, revealing what might be the secret to gardening in the bush. So among her hardy roses with exotic names like Duchesse de Brabant and Maman Cochet, she’s planted delicate flowers like foxgloves and salvias that would be more at home in the English countryside than their actual one on a cattle property out west.
Christmas is less about gift-giving and more about about spending time with family as children Izzy (15), Harry (14) and Grace (10) grow older. Jane’s mum passed away from motor neurone disease five years ago, and Jane weaves her memory into festivities. “I dress the table nicely and use her beautiful silverware and cutlery,” she says. “I desperately wish she was still with me.” The day is spent drifting between the kitchen and the wide verandah that cloaks their home - pottering, feasting and enjoying each other’s company. Harry is off to boarding school next year, joining Izzy in Toowoomba - making this celebration particularly meaningful. “He’s nervous about the unexpected,” Jane says. “It’s going to take him a little bit to get used to being away because he does love being here.” In dry years like this one, the family stays close to home: someone has to feed the cows.
Christmas is less about gift-giving and more about about spending time with family as children Izzy (15), Harry (14) and Grace (10) grow older. Jane’s mum passed away from motor neurone disease five years ago, and Jane weaves her memory into festivities. “I dress the table nicely and use her beautiful silverware and cutlery,” she says. “I desperately wish she was still with me.” The day is spent drifting between the kitchen and the wide verandah that cloaks their home - pottering, feasting and enjoying each other’s company. Harry is off to boarding school next year, joining Izzy in Toowoomba - making this celebration particularly meaningful. “He’s nervous about the unexpected,” Jane says. “It’s going to take him a little bit to get used to being away because he does love being here.” In dry years like this one, the family stays close to home: someone has to feed the cows.
Christmas is less about gift-giving and more about about spending time with family as children Izzy (15), Harry (14) and Grace (10) grow older. Jane’s mum passed away from motor neurone disease five years ago, and Jane weaves her memory into festivities. “I dress the table nicely and use her beautiful silverware and cutlery,” she says. “I desperately wish she was still with me.” The day is spent drifting between the kitchen and the wide verandah that cloaks their home - pottering, feasting and enjoying each other’s company. Harry is off to boarding school next year, joining Izzy in Toowoomba - making this celebration particularly meaningful. “He’s nervous about the unexpected,” Jane says. “It’s going to take him a little bit to get used to being away because he does love being here.” In dry years like this one, the family stays close to home: someone has to feed the cows.
The Nixon’s focus on family extends into the paddock, where cattle work is timed with school holidays
so the children can lend a hand, and Toby works alongside his father Bob day-to-day. “We’re lucky to have
the father-son relationship we have,” Toby says. “Some would say we probably don’t communicate very
well, but we seem to be able to grunt at one another and get things done,” he laughs. Nixons have run cattle
in this district for 90 years - predominantly Herefords under the Wallan Creek stud name, until eight years
ago when they branched out into the Angus breed. “There’s a higher demand for Angus,” Toby says.
“That demand and their form is why we wanted to run them beside the Hereford cattle. Within that eight
years we’ve gone from 100 percent Hereford to 50/50 Angus.”
The Nixon’s focus on family extends into the paddock, where cattle work is timed with school holidays so the children can lend a hand, and Toby works alongside his father Bob day-to-day. “We’re lucky to have the father-son relationship we have, ”Toby says. “Some would say we probably don’t communicate very well, but we seem to be able to grunt at one another and get things done,” helaughs. Nixons have run cattle in this district for 90 years - predominantly Herefords under the Wallan Creek stud name, until eight years ago when they branched out into the Angus breed. “There’s a higher demand for Angus,” Toby says. “That demand and their form is why we wanted to run them beside the Hereford cattle. Within that eight years we’ve gone from 100 percent Hereford to 50/50 Angus.”
Alongside Toby’s interest in cattle, lies a passion for much smaller livestock. He started beekeeping in 2015 and within five years established his brand Tobee’s Honey. “You just never stop learning, it’s so dynamic,” he says of the practise. “The honey is just a reward really, because it’s not even about the honey. It’s the enjoyment, that humming of the hive, I think it’s therapeutic.” He’s often milling about his hives dotted among the ironbark trees - carefully removing frames to check the health of his colonies. “That’s a good frame of capped brood,” he says, pointing to a swathe of sealed hexagonal cells filled with soon-to-hatch bees. It’s been a dry winter, but not so dry the queen has stopped laying. “They self-regulate, so they know when things are good and can build up really quickly. The queen can lay up to 2,000 eggs a day.” Later, Toby fills glass jars with honey that sparkles in the light like a syrup from the sun. Some will be used for Christmas lunch (drizzled on a pav), and rest is off to the closest supermarket in Miles.
Alongside Toby’s interest in cattle, lies a passion for much smaller livestock. He started beekeeping in 2015 and within five years established his brand, Tobee’s Honey. “You just never stop learning, it’s so dynamic,” he says of the practise. “The honey is just a reward really, because it’s not even about the honey. It’s the enjoyment, that humming of the hive, I think it’s therapeutic.” He’s often milling about his hives dotted among the ironbark trees - carefully removing frames to check the health of his colonies. That’s a good frame of capped brood,” he says, pointing to a swathe of sealed hexagonal cells filled with soon-to-hatch bees. It’s been a dry winter, but not so dry the queen has stopped laying. “They self-regulate, so they know when things are good and can build up really quickly. The queen can lay up to 2,000 eggs a day.” Later, Toby fills glass jars with honey that sparkles in the light like a syrup from the sun. Some will be used for Christmas lunch (drizzled on a pav), and the rest is off to the closest supermarket in Miles.
Alongside Toby’s interest in cattle, lies a passion for much smaller livestock. He started beekeeping in 2015 and within five years established his brand, Tobee’s Honey. “You just never stop learning, it’s so dynamic,” he says of the practise. “The honey is just a reward really, because it’s not even about the honey. It’s the enjoyment, that humming of the hive, I think it’s therapeutic.” He’s often milling about his hives dotted among the ironbark trees - carefully removing frames to check the health of his colonies. That’s a good frame of capped brood,” he says, pointing to a swathe of sealed hexagonal cells filled with soon-to-hatch bees. It’s been a dry winter, but not so dry the queen has stopped laying. “They self-regulate, so they know when things are good and can build up really quickly. The queen can lay up to 2,000 eggs a day.” Later, Toby fills glass jars with honey that sparkles in the light like a syrup from the sun. Some will be used for Christmas lunch (drizzled on a pav), and the rest is off to the closest supermarket in Miles.
Toby’s bees draw nectar and pollen from the flowers in Jane’s garden, pollinating them in the process. It’s a symbiotic relationship the Nixons endeavour to replicate with their land: giving and taking in equal measures. “We’re trying to keep our stock numbers down,” he says. “We’re renovating pastures, improving waterways and harnessing the water when it does rain.” In return, the Nixons hope the land will keep giving so it can be passed into the hands of the next generation.
Toby’s bees draw nectar and pollen from the flowers in Jane’s garden, pollinating them in the process. It’s a symbiotic relationship the Nixons endeavour to replicate with their land: giving and taking in equal measures. “We’re trying to keep our stock numbers down,” he says. “We’re renovating pastures, improving waterways and harnessing the water when it does rain.” In return, the Nixons hope the land will keep giving so it can be passed into the hands of the next generation.
Toby’s bees draw nectar and pollen from the flowers in Jane’s garden, pollinating them in the process. It’s a symbiotic relationship the Nixons endeavour to replicate with their land: giving and taking in equal measures. “We’re trying to keep our stock numbers down,” he says. “We’re renovating pastures, improving waterways and harnessing the water when it does rain.” In return, the Nixons hope the land will keep giving so it can be passed into the hands of the next generation.
