Cloudbusting moments

When I started this blog I was thinking of my life in the foothills of the Dandenong Ranges, Victoria, Australia. I have since come to realise that life is a series of hills of varying topographical detail; some a barely bumps, others are the hill climb of the Tour de France that the faint-heartened never approximate. I have also come to appreciate the distinct advantage of setting hills in my sights with the aim of seeing life from the other side with a raised heart-rate. My 'comfort-zone' exists to be busted, and I intend to continue venturing far away and beyond my comfort-zones for as long as I have a reason to live. From the foothills of the Dandenongs to the foothills of the Strzelecki Ranges, and still cloudbusting, I hope. It's what I want my kids to do, so I'd better show them a bit about how it's done, and how to push up and over the hills they'd otherwise avoid...

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

The View From Here

A place. An anchor. Somewhere that feels like somewhere, the kind of somewhere my spirit needs to be.
It smells like gentle wattles in an early Spring.
It feels like liberty to plan and to see out dreams that have steered a short lifetime.
It sounds like magpie song on moonlit nights and soft munching sounds of beasts.
It looks like the green, brown and blue hues of all that is important to support living and breathing. It looks over the solid unchanging of ancient land mass and eternal sea.
It tastes of spicy eucalypt on frosty mornings, or of brackish creek water on a Summer’s day, promised after tasks have been completed and patience tested by small human spirits. It’s the taste they know, the taste that helps them grow.
Trials endured because of hopes that have lured.
A place. An anchor. Somewhere that feels like the kind of somewhere our spirits needs to be.

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