This is Australia. The place that I live. But not my "island home". That's at the far side of the planet. A green dot on the landscape. England. It is forever in my mind. Sometimes I go back. I feel complete. Effortlessly my self. For a while. Then I begin to long for dust and the cackle of kookaburras. Long for the sharp scent of eucalypt. For shimmering heat waves on scorched earth. The secret, brooding silence of the bush. It calls to me.
So I come back. I sink fence posts into the ground and wonder if I'm desecrating sacred ground. I dig my roots deep into the rusty red soil. I turn my face to the brilliant blue of the sky. I am alien. An invader. Like lantana.
Many thanks to Denise and Yolanda for making it happen. To see more go to...
Word count 130:FCA