Sometimes, You Just Need to Breathe

Sometimes, you just need to breathe.

You need to go to the sea, where the world becomes a dome of silver and blue, and the horizon never ends. You yearn to touch the soft, gritty sand, beneath your feet, between your toes, to become weightless, as you float in the salty water, face turned to the open sky, as the fire of day’s end burns across clouds.

You need to stand in forests, beneath giant trees, their branches rising above you, their presence grounding you in earth. You long to take in the scent of lemon honey, pulled from flowers by drunken bees, the sharp sweet notes of eucalyptus and pine oil, the sweet golden wattle. You ache to push your face against smooth, cool, bark.

You need to move through the lands of big skies, where the blazing yellow sun climbs steadily from red desert sands and the entire universe rises above you at night, sparkling purple black and silver. You crave to drive across the flats where the world is endless, hoping to see whale mamas with their babies, dancing on the edge of our island, in the safe warm waters.

You need to climb mountains, where enormous grey, white and brown, granite rocks, walk across fields below them, their craggy peaks dusted with crisp white snow. Nestled within these ancient domes of stone and rock, you feel truly connected to from whence we came, you feel the truth of everything.

Sometimes, you just need to breathe.