I get so disappointed when people don't write in their blogs, and here I am, a month since my last entry, still not knowing what to write.
I went to a yoga retreat on the weekend. It was on the Berowra River, which I canoed down on Sunday. I was overwhelmed by the bush. I felt uneasy and threatened somehow. It's quite a stereotypical feeling really, but you can't help it when you feel stereotypes. I've studied lots of Australian writers who wanted to disarm the bush of its unsettling 'emptiness', so they invested it with Aboriginal spirits. I didn't do that, I felt really alone. I didn't feel at home at all, or comforted by nature.