It's landscape is warm and familiar, it welcomes me with open arms. Mighty gum trees, green fields and grassy roadsides.
Childhood memories flow like lava, I long for those days again. Playing in the front yard with log truck rumbling past, my brothers and sisters pumping our arms for a horn blow. Dad playing Boche down the road with the other Europeans immigrants, underneath grapevine covered greens. The smell of freshly cut pine filling the air from the timber mill.
I am torn between the bush and the coastline I now live near, although I didn't go that far. I am still only thirty kays from where I grew up. The beach is closer.
I spent a lot of my school holidays by our local beaches. Gran and Grandpa lived in Southend, their house was only a sandhill's walk away from dipping my toes in the water, or filling a bucket with shells.
The air is crisp, the waves calming. I remember many nights laying in bed listening to the waves ebb and flow on the beach. I could not tell you how many times I was nipped on the foot by a skittish crab while paddling in the surf.
I learnt how to fish on it's jetty. Cray boats scattered the bay, bringing in their catch and rolling it in on steel carts along rail lines.
Not too much has changed here since I was a kid, mainly the people. The beach has been eroded away by huge winter seas, but I still enjoy spending the day along it's sandy shores. These days I'm a lot more sun wise, no more blistered red shoulders, that would stick to the sheets at night, skin peeling off the following week.
I am calmed by the whispering waves, as they take my cares out to sea. I take in the fresh air, deep into my lungs and expel the negative.
Both the bush and the beach hold a special place in my heart, though I don't think I could ever life too far from the beach now. I would miss feeling the sand between my toes.
Are you a bush mouse or a beach mouse?
Joining Denyse for #lifethisweek |