An Ode To The Aussie Bush

An Ode To The Aussie Bush

As I cup my handmade mug of English breakfast, I feel the heat soothing my chilled fingers. I close my eyes and envision a ball of warm energy travelling through my body. The burning glow tickles my toes as I rest my feet close the flames of the fire ablaze. My eyes water as a breeze pushes smoke against my face; it stings, but it’s a familiar sensation.

I can hear my friends creating music, everyone with a different instrument, though syncing with the same swaying melody. Vibrations of the gentle crackle of firewood, burning and popping, caress my ears. In the early AM, I’m listening to the kangaroos scutter across the gravel driveway that surrounds the campsite, the patter of their paws as they hop towards the grasslands.

Fresh coffee beans brewing over the flames, still alive from last night’s late antics, slowly awaken my senses as I inhale. Sometimes the smell of coffee is better than the first sip. Especially before sunrise. Oh and the smell of burning wood – *nose-gasm* – ugh…

I see togetherness, no faces hiding behind screens, just humans bonding over chats of their past encounters. My eyes wander over red cliffs falling into the waves of luminous blue water. A tea tree lake kisses the ocean as the tide rises. The Australian coastline blesses my vision with its raw, natural beauty.

Lastly, I ponder the taste left-behind of spices, tobacco and dark berries: remnants of the last drop of red wine lingering on my tongue. Salt dries my mouth as I exit Mama Ocean’s refreshing waters from a morning dip, cleansed and rid of any haziness, a result from a drag too-many of Ruby’s funky stuff.

Reflection soothes my body, slows my mind and drifts me to and fro memories of warmth and love. Moments that, until now, were taken for granted. These recalled moments will now be a fond memory I hope to reflect on often, to share stories about and elucidate my happiness in times where it has become clouded.

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