PIP Courtney “There's Not A Day I Don't Think Of John”

As the ABC’s Landline celebrates 30 years of telling the stories of rural Australians, host Pip reveals it was those same people who helped her heal in a time of overwhelming grief.

- Susan Chenery

The eucalyptus trees cast long shadows in the late afternoon. A hot wind ruffles the grass. Curious cattle rush bellowing to the fence, ears twitching, hooves stamping, loudly wanting to know what is going on. In the distance the city of Brisbane shimmers in a heat haze, but here in the rolling, pastoral pocket of Pinjarra Hills, Pip Courtney looks as cool as a mint julep walking down a track with Bella, a resident horse of uncertain temperament.

Bella is being coaxed into posing for the camera by the sugar lumps Pip has stashed in her pocket. The two are old friends. Landline’s esteemed presenter comes here to the University of Queensland’s Veterinary Science Farm every Wednesday to stand among the corrugated iron sheds and wooden fences to film the links for each program. In fact, the queen of rural Australia has been standing in paddocks with cameras and animals for three decades, often filming early in the morning when the light is soft, or in the golden hour of the evening in those moments of luminescence before it tips towards dark. “You’ve got to make every minute count,” she says. “The light is only great for a certain amount of time.”

Landline is much more than a job for Pip; it is a vocation, it is the fibre of her being, it is a community spread across the country that embraced and held her when the worst thing happened. It is home.