Bush Walking - for self care
There is something about walking into the bush that instantly slows my mind and brings a soft gentle clarity in moments when I'm craving it.
I took one crunching step forward on the crystal clear quartz and the rubble spread to the sole of my shoe.
One deep breath, my eyes puffy and soft - i can taste the dryness on my tongue.
I start stomping my way up the hill and catch myself, “slow, soft” i say “it’s not about the finish line.”
Softer i walk - red dust puffing into the air behind me like smoke.
I walk with ease. Breathing, breathing, breathing it in.
The arid and majestic hills, the quiet; All i can hear is my shoes.
The top of the hill is bigger than i imagine - so much room for play and exploring. I drift off the track clapping my hands like a clumsy tourist to ward off snakes in the long grass.
I stop to photograph something i cannot do justice, putting my camera down i feel something behind me - assuming its a fellow bushwalker i turn to say hi. Instead i face in the near distance a beautiful and large Kangaroo bounding through the grass and rocks.
It stops - we hold eye contact and then he is gone.
I sit on a large red rock, my legs dangling like a child. Feeling inspired i begin to draw.
I remind myself its not about perfect representation but a free felt ode to life and a moment of play of letting go. Knowing my insecurities, acknowledging them and moving forward.