Three Corners is, on the surface, your average small town.
It stands on the banks of a flood prone river, with a large Queensland style pub anchoring the village at a once famous three way intersection.
Throughout the valley that the town services, you can see the faded remnants of the landed gentry. It once held just twenty families, parcelled off in fifteen hundred acre farms, now it’s all patches of green paddocks dotted here and there; subdivided and subdivided again as people chase the country dream, the country lifestyle, just not the unceasing agricultural workload.
Where once stood large dairies, timber mills and pristine forests, there are now alpacas and organic market gardens, small orchards of rare fruit, and artistic retreats…
Three Corners proudly supports a Post Office, a bakery, a café and bookshop. A grocery store, Gelateria, a few antique shops and the usual high-end art and stylish home stores peddling the trend without the substance.
But like all small towns, scratch the surface, and you’ll be surprised at what you find underneath.
In that sense Three Corners is really no different to any other small town I know, except perhaps, for some of the characters you might meet.