Thunder Drops and Passing Storms

 As I sit in the family room listening to the thunder drops on our tin roof and the rumble of the storm as it passes overhead, and smell the the tang of eucalypt in the air and the wet earth, I still can’t believe that I’m here. It was raining the first time I came here, gentle rain, and I stood in the back garden completely oblivious to the real estate agent pointing out various features of the property. It didn’t matter. I was in love.

...a stunning view down into the valley from just above the house

…a stunning view down into the valley from just above the house

All that I could hear was the rain – on the roof,on the ground, splattering on the trees – no cars, no neighbours, no dogs barking, and all around me were trees. It wasn’t until later that I discovered the amazing view across to The Hill or down to The Valley, where grapes and olives cut across the paddocks and large, docile cattle grazed beside The Creek. No. At that point there was just me, the house, and the bush.

And, at that point, I knew that this was a dream that had no chance of coming true.

Except it did.

That was two years ago. Somehow a miracle happened and we were able to buy the place, despite not being ready to sell the house we were renovating in the suburbs. We weren’t going to move in right away. Uh, uh. We were going to finish the other house, first, and make sure that we would get a good return when we sold.

I think we were still in denial.

How did it happen?

How could we have become the custodians of this little piece of bush paradise?

It couldn’t possibly be true, so moving in was… something to look forward to. After all, we’d been waiting over twenty years already.

So, explain how it was that we came up here ‘just to camp for the weekend’ and never went back? Bit by bit our stuff migrated out of town, the old couch we were sleeping on was replaced by our bed, we bought a new fridge, we bought an old Landrover… and here we were. It was the cat that did it – he hated being in the car, so we couldn’t put him through the torture of taking him back to town. Could we?

Every morning I still wake up enchanted.

I drive through the valley totally awed by the beauty, ever changing through the seasons.

I’m still in love.

And I’m here.