Home

Flying above the giant patchwork of desert, dry farmland and feathery salt lakes I felt a deep love for my home. I wanted my bare feet planted on that earth, feeling the sun too hot on my back, smelling the gum leaves crunching underfoot. When I walked out of the airport that familiar hot wave drenched me in sweat and I loved it. At home, I sang a butcher bird's song in my head and heard the reply in my back yard, my chickens and dog came to greet me, the garden had flourished and the house had been rearranged a little but it was home. I was home.
I guess after living out of a rucksack the last 7 months, I realised how much you don't need. Despite having bronchitis, I began to cull my clothes cupboard as soon as I stepped into my bedroom. Off to St. Andrew's market for them.
Dad came home from Manila yesterday and so we were a whole family again, dinner was being cooked as usual, washing being hung and spaces being tidied, but everyone pitched in a little more, with a little less complaint. The importance of togetherness.