The Sunday scribblings prompt is "Solace" for this week.
Solace. Split it up. Can you see the soul.
When I am really upset I need time alone so I go bush.
If you are an Aussie you may associate this "Goin' bush" as a thing spoken of that is done by aboriginal people. Goin' bush or going walkabout. Maybe there is a little bit of that in me that still seeps through after 5 generations of breeding away from my australian aboriginal great great grandmother.
In the bush, on my own, I find solace.
The colours calm me with their beauty.
The flash of a red parrot excites me.
And bird sounds fill the sky.
The sound of water running is music to me.
The smells of the earth and plants are magical.
I take my time to minutely examine a leaf or rock or a flower.
The sounds and rustlings through the undergrowth and breeze rustling in the trees,
give me peace and take my interest away.
The bush's timeless beauty soothes my jumbled mind.
As I calm myself I rationalise the events that sent me to the bush.
I can feel its timeless and ageless comfort.
Can you see it, smell it, hear it, feel it?
My Dad used to take us, his girls, walking in the bush when we were little. He would always get a stick for us to walk along with and we would draw lines along behind us along the dirt track. Looking like a wobbly snake track following us. He would point out plants and birds. He always broke a small switch off a gum tree as he walked along to flick away the tiny bush flies that settled on our backs. We called them free loaders. We would throw and kick rocks along the track.We thought it was wonderful, especially when he picked a gum leaf and placed it carefully between his thumbs and blew through it, giving a loud whistle. I never did master that.
Last time I was upset and went bush I was told by my workmate that I was selfish as she was worried about me and didn't know where I was. I felt really bad about that, but I needed to get away. Was I selfish or did she misunderstand me?