There’s nothing like the open space of an Australian country highway. Hundreds of kilometers of bitumen that link one town to the next. This particular section was straight and flat and surrounded by dry fields, yet little splashes of color caught my eye as our car hurtled past them. More came towards us…. and then disappeared again as we sailed past. The heads of the little yellow flowers bobbed in the wind, and something about them attracted my attention. “I’d love a photo of those little flowers.” I said to Stew. “Just tell me where to stop.” “I don’t think we can.” This stretch of highway had a tiny gravel…