Writing to heal and appreciate the world surrounding me.
Short stories, memoirs, poetry and everything in between.
As I speed along the brown, dusty road I can sense the magic in the air. Surrounding me are emerald green paddocks,
The sound of the city rushed by below, making its way in to the room above. The sun streamed through the window, the curtains still pulled back from the day before.
Through Me, It Flows
The water in our river comes directly from the Tops. Water is collected, from rain and snow and hail, in the cool catchments surrounded by vibrant greens at the very peak of the mountains.