My Home

Racing into the bush,
Stepping over the pebbles and broken sticks,
Breathing in,
The rainy smell of the wilderness.

Closing my eyes,
I can hear
The oak green gum leaves swaying in the wind,
The crystal clear water trickling down the rocks,
The sweet delicate chirping of the birds.

The crisp coolness of the air,
Refreshes me,
The whispering wind blows back my hair,
As I take in the towering trees, creeks, rocks.

A place of relaxation,
Of wonderful nature,
My home.