A Sunday afternoon in Darwin

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All I hear is the chatter of the wind, as the trees are cradled by the breeze, and the singing from native birds near.

The sky is an ocean of blue, with marshmellow clouds, drifting by quick, then disappear.

I am surrounded by only lush greeness, and the cat down by my feet. I sit here in the arms of mother earth, feeling her heart beat. I put pen to paper as my eyes and senses navigate me.

Frolicly flying around, close to the ground, are two mustard coloured butterflies, so carefree,  and an ant passes by my hand, stops, then darts quickly past, not daring to stop.

The wind is still roaring this March time of year, moving through lofty palms, and plants, like the sound of paper, crunching in cupped hands.

The sun is warm, and the rays touch my bare back. The native tree branches and palms, cry out for warmth too, as they peak through the lush canopy.

The day is perfect, as I sit home alone, out in the yard of green life, I really don’t feel so alone.

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