There are many bush walks around here, some off leash, some not. Some small and contained, some you can walk for hours, if the dog will allow.
My bush is not green and lush,
though maybe the rainforests are,
Instead my bush is shades
greys, blues, greens
Surprising bolts of colour
the golden wattle, sign of cold
winter around the corner
the occasional burnt red leaves
It’s a bush that asks you
to work on enjoying it
finding little jolts of joy,
wild orchids pushing heads
up just above the soil.
It asks you to get up close,
to notice the beauty
that is there, not obvious
but waiting to be found.
