left at the olive grove

Take a left turn at the olive grove and you will find yourself in a little pocket of gum trees.... where the clouds touch and blanket the tops of the mountains and the mountains dip their feet into icy rivers.

You will find yourself successfully lost..... your worries cleared with the evaporating mists at sunrise....your soul soaring and singing along with the chorus of kookaburras and lorikeets at dawn.

You will find yourself visited by bandicoots who think nothing of foraging at your feet as you soak up the campfire in the inky blackness....and brush tail possums who seem to drop from the trees like ninjas to rob you of apples and hot cross buns you foolishly left out on the camp table.

You will find however they are not such ruthless thieves when they return the next night allowing you to tickle their soft fur as they opportunistically steal more scraps from your bin.

You will find the irresistible need to dip your toes in the fresh flowing river water and to sit and listen to it's gentle drumming as it courses over smooth rocks and boulders. It's purposeful course becoming transfixing in the most purifying way.

I feel strong again....healed and awakened.

My body restored simply by what it craved the most.....miso soup.....a great camping tonic.....

My spirit and my family uplifted by what it needed the most.....nature, quiet and escape....an earthy grounding that has left my feet more than a little itchy for more.

We found just what we were looking for and more left of the olive grove.
And the Easter bilby found us too.

We have returned home with tired bodies, our hair smelling thickly of camp fire, and dirt....so much dirt, beneath our nails and in our pores......and just a big part of me that doesn't want to scrub and wash it out just yet.