Before the schoolies settled down, Mr Gormley handed Freya two buckets. ‘You’ve a good sense of direction. Think you can find the spring pipe and fill these up? We’ll need water for supper cocoa, and for morning.’
Freya felt confident. Without hesitation she found the path they’d taken earlier in the day. The bush felt like home; enfolding. Halfway to the pipe, she halted, engulfed by a compulsion to soak it in; rustling leaves, scurrying animals, a fresh faint eucalyptus scent, the play of light and shade, a sense of past and present. Time was becalmed. The essence of the surroundings seeped in, filled her. The spirits of the guardians of the land welcomed, drawing her into an enchantment, experiencing everything and nothing – total belonging, known, knowing, and embraced by all. . . . If only this immense oneness could last forever.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish