Jimmy Wood bats away a fly and looks skyward. He's covered in dirt and dust after an afternoon spent drafting sheep in head-spinning heat.
"We won't get much, but we'll get something," he says, referring to the rain clouds brewing on the horizon.
It's been another gruelling day for the Rawlinna Station manager, but he relishes the role he's held since 2018.
"I must say it's probably been the most challenging job I've ever had, by a million miles, but also the most rewarding," Mr Wood says.
On the edge of the Nullarbor, 400 kilometres east of Kalgoorlie, the iconic sheep station covers more than one million hectares of southern Western Australia.
The country is vast and the skyscapes breathtaking.
But the past few years have been particularly hard on Rawlinna, with drought and wild dog attacks taking their toll.
Drought and dogs 'wreak havoc'
It wasn't long before the flock's vulnerability was made clear to the station's newly appointed manager.
"Rawlinna had suffered from underinvestment for a few years," Mr Wood says.
"And to be fair to the company [Jumbuck Pastoral], there wasn't a lot of joy in the wool industry before that. The 2000s and 2010s weren't that great for wool prices.
"But because of that lack of investment, we were behind the eight ball in terms of infrastructure and control of the flock — in particular netting fence.
"We had a massive influx of wild dogs and dingoes, and they were wreaking havoc with our flock."
Fortifying the flock from dogs became a high priority, and a huge investment was made towards improving the station's fencing.
It's already proving worthwhile.
"I reckon I've still got one or two dogs operating on Rawlinna … but we're well on top of them," Mr Wood says.
"All it takes is a couple of days with a hole there and you'll get a whole family of dogs in."
The other problem was water.
After healthy rain at the start of 2018, the following four years were dry and stressful.
"I remember in 2019 we'd do water runs and find three or four dead sheep at every trough," Mr Wood says.
"And our lambing percentage was really low; it was around about 3 per cent. It was pretty hard to take for a while, and for the guys here with me, I'm sure it had an impact on them as well."
But, last spring, spirits were lifted at Rawlinna thanks to some drought-breaking rain.
"I felt really good. Probably the best I've felt at Rawlinna," Mr Wood says.
"Just seeing grass in places where I hadn't seen it before.
"It's been a long time coming, definitely something I cherish when I see it."
However, the years of drought and dog attacks had already taken a toll on the flock size.
A 'bucket list' destination
During this year's shearing program, held during late February and early March, about 30,000 sheep passed through the Rawlinna woolshed.
The figure is less than half of what the station has previously accommodated.
Still, despite the labour shortages facing the industry, Rawlinna's reputation as a world-renowned shearing destination remains.
"It's a good place to tick off your bucket list and say you've been and done," shearing contractor Derek Michell says.
"It's known around the world … you mention Rawlinna and everyone's heard of it."
Paul Farrugia, from Port MacDonnell in South Australia, has been shearing for the past 20 years.
He enjoys the camaraderie, despite the challenging conditions at times.
"What was it, 49 degrees yesterday? So, it probably would have been 60 in here [the shearing shed]," he says, puffing on a cigarette at morning smoko.
"You just drink plenty of water, hydrolytes, and a bit of Coke at lunch time gets you through."
And he has sage advice for any prospective shearers.
"Keep it [the comb] full and in the wool … and you're making money," he says, clippers in hand.
The appeal of a Nullarbor adventure was also too strong to resist for Chelsea Hansford.
She'd been living on the Gold Coast before moving to Rawlinna, where she's now the station's head jillaroo — a role in which she's thrived.
"I never really figured out what I've wanted to do and was kind of just floating around, doing whatever," Ms Hansford said.
"And then I came here, hard work at the start … but the people I met just made it and the work became something I enjoyed."
The days are long, but the 21-year-old couldn't imagine being stuck in an office job.
"I think I might die if I got an office job," she said.
"Being inside and sitting down all day is not ideal for me. I might cry and spiral."
Much 'depends on the seasons'
As the sun sets on one of the hottest days in months, Mr Wood remains optimistic that Rawlinna's fortunes will change.
"I'd like to see us back up to 65,000 [sheep]. Rawlinna can do that very comfortably; it was designed to do that," he says.
"It'd be nice to shear 16 stands here again. Whether that happens in my time, I don't know … it's largely dependent on the seasons.
"We just need a couple of good winters to get the numbers back up, and we'll be there."
