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Archives

Thursday, July 31, 2008

At lunch, I go wondering.  Most days, it’s just next door.  Through a beautiful botanic garden.  There are birds.  There are trees.  There are people.  There is life.

Some days, I sit and watch the crested pigeons burble about and practice their mating dance.  Today I happened upon a kookaburra.  Every single day the trees are full of parrots.

Today, in the middle of winter, the day turned gloriously sunny and I rested on a park bench and soaked the sun into my bones.  On other days, the wind is whistling and the temperature plummets, so I hide in the house of the lilies, warm and sumptuous and quiet.  Sometimes I huddle in the darkened fern hut and slowly admire the camellias.  Most days I stroll past the lily pond and rose garden, simply humming in anticipation of what Spring might bring.

Every day I take a book.  Some days I read it.  Some days I can’t bear to take my eyes away from everything around me. 

Somehow, I always find myself standing by a babbling creek, listening to it rush life and water by.

My heart sings!  My senses feast daily.  I love this place.  I always have.  It has found me again.

In some unrealised way, I have come home. 


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