Weekend – Small Island Style

Barefoot I wander along a familiar crescent of sand. There’s noone else around. The air is warm, the waves lapping calmly on this windless day and above is our wide blue Australian sky.

I lay my striped beach towel under a tree providing dappled shade, and line my towel up so my head will be in the shade and my body in the warm Queensland sun. As I read, an eagle hovers above the tree and wafts off again, spreadeagled in the blue.

I lie there listening to the tweets, songs, screeches, choral choruses and mating calls of birds, hearing the subtle crackle and clicks of the little creatures in the mud left by the outgoing tide. I’m always struck by the raw natural beauty of my island as I read by the sea basking in light.

A chorus of kookaburras have started up outside my window as I write this. I am very grateful for this wonderful life.

 

 

 

 

 

The Luckiest Island

And one day, coming home to my island after a long day at work, I saw this.

I often go home in wonderment at the beauty of my island.

No matter what has happened during the day, it simply falls away, and there I am, looking at beauty. Breathing it in. Living in it.

This island is under my skin.

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