"It’s got to be all shoulders to the wheel in every corner of the world if we can pull out the excess carbon that’s in the atmosphere. And agriculture has a huge role to be able to do that." But in an inherently conservative industry, environmentalism has become a fault line. Although an increasing proportion of farmers accept the science of climate change, surveys by the University of Adelaide indicate they still make up less than half, compared to 76 per cent of the wider population. All farmers have a vested interest in looking after their land and livestock. Many bridle at the message implicit in regenerative farming that some of their woes are their own fault. Drought stricken country near Walgett. Credit:Janie Barrett Agriculture consultant and educator Terry McCosker, an Australian pioneer of regenerative farming, said lots of the drought-affected properties portrayed in the media had in fact been poorly managed. "Anyone who lets their animals die is an idiot," he said.

Most of his clients turned to regenerative farming out of desperation, because they could see within a generation the degradation of the landscape, and they did not want to leave their properties to the next generation in that condition. They come for business reasons, but are converted by environmental ones. Methods include planting trees and native grasses to capture and recycle carbon in the soil, and grazing livestock in one or two mobs, continually rotating them through paddocks so most of the land is recovering at any given time. The general principle in a drought is to sell livestock early so the land is rehabilitated by the time it rains. Parched land near Coonamble, in north-western NSW. Credit:Janie Barrett "In this drought a lot of our clients are sailing through it - not stressed, not making the amount of money they were the year before it started, but not going broke, not destroying their land, not hurting their animals, and they're coming through quite well," Mr McCosker said. One of his clients' biggest challenges is local antagonism to their methods, which he tries to counter by creating a peer support network among the graduates of his course.

Loading "When people are doing something different, the group-think of their district and their social community is to pull them back," he said. "If someone is doing something outside the social norms, in rural areas that is almost not allowed, it's not tolerated." But as the next generation takes over the management of family properties, this mindset is changing, and with it the dominant narrative. Boorowa grazier Charlie Arnott has become one of the most passionate advocates of regenerative agriculture since he took a course with Mr McCosker in 2004. He has since observed a vast improvement in his property, the environment and his mental health. "In a lot of farms the priority is to be financially viable, which is fine, but often it's at the expense of the environment or your own mental health," he said.

Loading "There's less resistance [to the regenerative movement] now. You become part of this network of like-minded farmers who are really supportive because they're on the same page." Arnott has won several industry awards for his championing of regenerative agriculture, but his social media evangelism has also rankled with some. In one recent Instagram post he ran footage of a dust storm to the west of his property, saying: "It's dust from far out west and north and that's saying only one very clear thing to me, that farming practices out there - and here, everywhere, all over Australia - have to change ... That shouldn't even be dust. That should be earth that's under plants." The comments put offside farmers who had been in drought for years, only to be hammered by thousands of kangaroos when their first rain gave rise to fresh roots. Arnott said his intention was not to preach. "I've seen the benefits myself and I just want to share the love with other people," he said. Goolhi farmers Les and Laura Jones put a face to some of these practices last year when they agreed to talk to a Sunday newspaper last year about their decision to kill 1200 sheep and bury them in a mass grave. A backlash from their neighbours and animal activists ensued and the slaughter did not take place.

But Mrs Jones said their situation was now worse than ever. About 400 sheep fell over from starvation, and though they had attempted to rescue the lambs - with about 30 poddies living in their house at one stage - most of them died when they moved out. They owe the bank $450,000 and are eking out the interest due in August. It was easy for wealthy graziers to criticise them for doing their best on a 1600-acre block, while those graziers went on ski holidays and bought expensive headers and tractors, she said. "All the neighbours around here, they still believe my husband is a bad farmer, that he has no idea what he's doing," she said. "They have two, three, four, five times the acreage that what Les and I have and they just keeping borrowing and keep digging deeper and deeper and deeper. "I blame myself for coming here because everything was going fine until I arrived and we're now swimming in dust." A dust storm hits Mildura in May 2019. Credit:Ben Gross/Sunraysia Daily