Our Land

The bushes are hedgehogs, short, prickly and always in place.

Kookaburras nest on trees that are as tall as lighthouses to slumber until dawn.

The trees blow oxygen across the park allowing us to slowly savour the fresh air and the smell of the natural smells of mother nature.

The sound of whooping wind pierces our ears as we sit close to the charcoal campfire.

Smoke billows around me gently like my father cuddling me the same way as the smoke.