Instead I have brought myself here.
There is coffee and a gentle breeze. Though the gentle breeze I could almost do without. While the sun may be shining there is little warmth in her golden rays.
My ears are filled with the sounds of birds calling img and singing out to one another. Willy wagtails and ducks are the only ones I can name though. The others flitter about in the tops of the tress making me unable to identify them. I manage to catch a quick glimpse of a very small olive green bird. The colours similar to one we saw at Warren National Park earlier in the year. Mr Writes said they were called a silver eye on account of their brilliant silver eyes. I can't remember now whether I took his word or checked in the book.
It feels funny calling home Mr Writes now. He hasn't stopped being awesome just with the new blog and all I thought perhaps new names for us all was in order as well.
Not that it really matters I guess.
I've had to leave my beautiful spot and start heading back towards home. My day is awaiting.
When I first sat down and started writing this I thought it was going to be about how as much as I love being here I still don't really feel like I fit in. It's hard to find someone like me.
I mean I don't want them to be just like me because I love being unique, but just someone similar. You know, they like to write, have kids the same age, don't have to work every day...surely that's not too much to ask is it? If they liked to go for a run every now and then that would be even better.
Just putting it out there