it feels like home to me…

mountain views

it’s funny, isn’t it, how a place that’s never really been your home per se can still feel like a home to you?

this past week i’ve been encamped at my parents’ house nestled in the sunshine coast hinterland…

but this was never my home growing up as my parents only built & moved here in my late 20s whilst i was living abroad…

so i never played hide n’ seek amongst these shrubs…

or hitched rides on my dad’s lap as he took a spin on the ride-on mower to curtail this lawn…

& i never made frangipani perfume for my mum from the blossoms which fell to this patch of earth…

there are no childhood memories hidden amongst this acreage for me, but i love it nonetheless…

the neighbours

a peace descends upon you as soon as you arrive here…

acres of green surround this property & nature abounds…

there are kangaroos to the left & horses to the right & whilst the alpacas that were once bred out back are gone now they’ve been replaced by some scary looking cows which moo mournfully when their young are ripped from their bosom each spring…

cicadas sing at nightfall once the deafening squawk of the nesting cockatoos has quietened to a hush &, as i sit here & type this, a distant kookaburra sings his evening song signalling the end of yet another day…

purple passion

 

geisha girl

collectively my parents toiled long & hard to turn this land into what it is today…

once a pine plantation, they removed abandoned tree stumps & filled holes left by their perished roots…

they planted every flowering bulb, every shrub & nearly every tree that stands proud today: the bulk of which my mum had lovingly nursed from seed or saplings before transplanting to the soil…

wheelie bin run

when it came to working with the contours of the land, my dad was the architect…

it was he who determined the size, shape & placement of the garden beds & the sweep of the driveway which snakes its way slowly from the soft-edged road beyond…

my parents worked this land relentlessly: my dad, at times, until he fell to his knees with gardening tools still in hand & my mum until her arthritic fingers could bend no more…

my parents’ blood, sweat, tears, dreams & hopes have all been spilt, conceived &/or laid to rest on this property in immeasurable quantities…

so much so that this land can’t help but feel like home to me…

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

16 thoughts on “it feels like home to me…

  1. Home is where the heart is ….. and that view brings back memories for me …. childhood day trips through the glasshouse mountains …

    • it is indeed lis! my heart rests easily in too many places though… not a bad thing i guess! i remember many a drive past tibrogargan as a child on the way to the coast!

  2. How stunning. The lush green grass with the moody gray skies…just wow. I’m getting goosebumps and I’m not even there. It doesn’t even look real, and were it not for your beautiful description of the place and what it means to you and how tirelessly your parents worked to make it theres, I would think it was all a trick of photoshop. Surely no place can be that pretty! And with kangaroos to boot!

    Enjoy every single second of your trip, Sue!! xoxo

  3. It looks and sounds amazing, so much so as I wonder if you would consider moving there one day?! Is that part of a bigger plan?

    It always amazes me how places like these stop us urban folks in our tracks and force us to re-evaluate….

    I hope you’re having a great time (while it’s snowing here and I’m nursing a cold)
    and hope that mummy dearest is on the mend.

    Great post!

  4. thanks tina! unfortunately moving there is not an option (i can’t afford it)… but i cherish the time i’ve spent there!

i'd love to hear your thoughts...