Australian Bushland

The dry brown leaves,

Sand as red as dust,

Birds chirp in trees,

Tumbleweeds roll across the flat earth,

Mountains tower in the distance,

Long dirt roads stretch for miles,

Winding paths up mountains,

Red sand dunes cover the land,

The raging hot sun beats down upon the earth,

Heats the sand and warms the air,

Dry gusts make strange shapes in the sand,

Blows seeds aloft and scatters dirt,

There I stood,

In a canyon wide,

Stared in awe at the land,

Every nook,

Every crack,

Every shrub,

Every leaf,

Make up this land I stand upon.