“I thought the grass was greener somewhere else,” he says. “And I was determined to go and find it.”

So he did. Mark headed off to university, swapped boots for shoes, and built a career in an office. There were meetings, deadlines, emails, and a steady pay cheque. On paper, it all made sense. For a while, it even felt like success.

“But after a few years, something just didn’t sit right,” he says. “I couldn’t put my finger on it at first.”

What he missed, he eventually realised, was the honesty of farm work. On the land, effort shows. If a fence is fixed properly, it holds. If cattle are handled well, they move calmly. If you cut corners, you see the consequences — usually pretty quickly.

“I missed working with my hands,” Mark says. “I missed being tired for a reason.”

The pull back to farming didn’t happen overnight. It crept in slowly, visits home, conversations with old neighbours, that familiar feeling of space and purpose. By his forties, Mark made the call to return to the industry.

It wasn’t easy.

“My body wasn’t twenty anymore,” he laughs. “And farming had changed a lot.”

Technology had moved in. Record keeping was digital. Machinery was more advanced. Expectations were higher. Mark had to relearn skills and swallow his pride more than once. But farming, he says, still teaches the same core lessons it always has.

“You don’t control everything,” he explains. “The weather will humble you every time. Animals keep you honest. And the people you work with, they make or break the experience.”

What surprised Mark most was how valuable his life experience became. He wasn’t the fastest anymore, but he was steady. He thought ahead. He noticed details. And younger workers started coming to him with questions.

Now, mentoring is one of the most rewarding parts of his role.

“Someone did it for me when I came back,” he says. “They didn’t judge. They just showed me how things worked now.”

Mark believes farming builds character in ways few environments can. It teaches patience, resilience, and responsibility, not through lectures, but through lived experience.

“You learn to plan,” he says. “You learn that shortcuts usually cost you more in the end. And you learn that showing up consistently matters.”

When students visit Six Keys Cattle Co, Mark sees a version of himself in many of them, curious, unsure, and surprised by how much there is to learn outside a classroom.

“Kids light up when they realise learning doesn’t just happen at a desk,” he says. “Out here, they can see it, touch it, and be part of it.”

For Mark, farming isn’t just a livelihood. It’s education in its purest form. Practical, honest, and grounded in real life. And after taking the long way around, he knows one thing for sure.

“The land has a funny way of calling you back when you’re ready to listen.”