“Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream.”~ Khalil Gibran
It’s 5am. I woke this morning in my own bed. The cool dawn air from the windows flung wide is fragranced with lemon blossom, jasmine, green grass and rich earth. It’s a lush smell. A rich smell. So dense I can almost hold it in my hands.
My little farmhouse looks exactly the same – homey and inviting. Outside the koalas are grunting in the stand of gumtrees near our bedroom window. Birds are tinkling and tweeting their sweet dawn songs. The possum who lives in our ceiling has just thumped home across the roof. He’s so noisy I swear he might have a wooden leg.
I have done some yoga stretches on my bright pink mat. I have meditated on a cushion at the feet of Ganesha on the side veranda, looking out over the dark, still paddocks. I’d forgotten how many trees we have.
Now, while I am waiting for Ben and the dogs to wake I will move the hose around the fruit trees and water my strawberries as streaky fingers of light begin to fill the sky.
The mulberry tree is groaning with fruit, and some of it is ripe. I am joyfully shuffling recipes in my head, wondering how best to use the first berries. Already I have crammed some of the luscious fruit into my mouth. I am a pirate looting her own bounty!
There is a softness to the air. There’s moisture, and a hint of rain. Clouds are beginning to thicken in the sky. Mist is curling up from the river.
Soon I will find my swimmers. We’ll leave Bert at home to sleep ( he is exhausted from the adventure of staying with friends and playing with their young children) and Harry, Ben and I will go for an early dip in the ocean. I’ll wash off this Outback dust and reclaim the salty heart of my own country. Then Harry can play Cafe Dog while we eat a good breakfast, drink freshly made juice and savour a coffee.
Today is a day for settling back in. Collecting the mail. Buying food. Replenishing my lyme meds. Making kefir. Getting bloods done. Washing mountains of dirty clothes. I expect there will be naps. I’m so very tired. If I’m honest, I pushed myself on this trip. Sometimes I gritted my teeth, painted on a smile and reassured everyone I was fine when I was less than that. Or worse. And I knew before we even left that I would. But I’m not regretful. It was worth it.
The Outback seems so far away this morning.
But all night my dreams were filled with endless expanses of golden grass, wide blue skies, drovers, dust and history…