I have always put my sense of direction down to the fact that I have always taken in my surroundings on car trips.
I had learnt most of the street names that my family and I frequented, before I even had my learner's licence.
On roadtrips, preferably in the passenger seat, my eyes are glued to the roadside, seeking large old trees on a hillside, most likely concealing an old homestead. Or perhaps spotting the signs for towns we bypass, always wondering what Chatsworth or Eureka might just be like...
When I recently hit the granite belt with my Mum in the driver's seat, I became mesmerised with the late spring flowers on the roadside. Diligently, my mother pulled over as we returned past this spot I had seen on our way into Tenterfield where this wild and overgrown rose bush tumbled across abandoned railway tracks..