Thunder grumbled all around us as the giant raindrops fell here there and everywhere. We'd just paddled our canoe into shore after 2 hours of exploring around Sydney's Royal National Park. The last 30 minutes the storm flickered and growled, giving us the most spectacular sound and light show. Probably best we get off the water to set up camp! I was somewhat tired recovering from a stomach bug a few days earlier. The paddle out here had been fun as we'd escaped the ever increasing waves from tipping us and all our camp gear on the drink.
There I was, lying empty, motionless, what felt like soul-less in the musty smelling bedroom at my parents house. The room wasn't lived in any more (kind of what my body felt like right now), I left there when I was 22. What seemed like a shoe box held all of my (physical) life, bags of clothes that I hadn't opened for three and a half years, boxes wall to wall full of who know what. I couldn't believe all these things belonged to me and I didn't know where to start in trying to sort it all out. My insides truly felt empty as I reached for my phone to numb my mind. Only to find my Facebook news feed flooded with photos of the latest 17cm snowfall, a place that seemed so close but in an instant had now become my old life on the other side of the world.