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Beauty Point, Tasmania

Steam rising from tea.
Crisp, early mornings
golden hazy light.
Birds squawking, the black cockatoo kind, really more like SCREECHING
tearing seeds from pinecones with noisy efficient crack! sounds.
The sea
which is truly the river but feels like the sea.
Memories of fears
of sharks that will come up from beneath and nibble my toes.
They never did
but they could have.
Silence.
Being able to see the stars, really see them.
Friends.
Family.
Having all those in-between conversations, you know
the ones that come out after all the "so how are you" and "what have you been doing lately", you know
about the things that really matter.
Distances, short:
friends nearby, meeting people I know in the street -
and still,
great distances, dreams and memories of far away.