For some reason jet lag is particularly debilitating this time. I find myself hand-washing a cardigan and repotting a plant at 2:30am in the morning, something I've never done before. And although Ross manages to sleep (for Australia this time), even he finds himself watching Star Trek reruns in the middle of the night to begin with.
But it's so nice to be home. Despite the numbness of jet lag, post-travel digestive upsets, minutiae of household chores and, all too soon, the soul-destroying ennui of weekdays, this is what it's all about... the Sunday sunrises and beauty of my park. The park with all its gorgeous spring colours, golden light, moody river views framed by foliage, peace, calm and the cure for the nature-shaped ache that I've unknowingly carried around these last few weeks.
Some of the amazing colours of Kings Park (Sept 2018)
And the image which, for me, just sums up why it's so nice to be home is this....
Enough said.
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