It's November, nearly three months in.
I've returned from a very welcomed journey down the Great Ocean Road.
A trip that left me longing for home, and what was. A trip that
spurred me onward towards adventure, and the unknown. It is no
surprise I felt this way, the road itself, when traveled with all its
bends and turns, promotes forward movement, never letting you stay in
one place, leaving a longing for what was left behind and a yearning
for what lays ahead.
The Road is ever winding, variant. One
moment you are overwhelmed by the ocean, the sea and the great cliffs
who command your respect. The next is filled with rolling, flowing
hills, who hold a feigned softness brought on by the rough sea.
Groves, pastures, farms, and distant windmills line this land. You move on, traveling through an
ancient rain forest, a forest that holds a prehistoric life of its
own, shaped, in part, by this great ocean.
You travel through this all, and then
you are back, back among the cliffs and the wind, finally staring
down the Twelve Apostles who are now eight, and gazing at the London
Bridge who is fallen down. It seems as if the wind, the sea and time
are doing their mighty work upon this great master piece. Soon what
we know and see here, the bridge, the apostles and the rain forest,
will be forever changed.
Amidst all of this, you cannot help but
think, “How can I make this last?” It is not a question of
preserving the land, it is a question of preserving the moment. It is
a thing of life that neither can be upheld forever, but their lessons can.
The Road encompasses you, it breaks
you, but it leads you to those places that heal. Sea, plain, forest,
river, waterfall... They are healing places, and the road holds them
all. Step into them, they will tell you something. More often then
not, the lessons they teach, you have already learned; learned but
forgotten. As such, we must always be opening and reopening, else we
will remain stagnant and closed. I learned this from the
many waterfalls along the road. They flow ever and always, journeying
towards the great perhaps. The water molds to the land, veering often
from its determined path, but always finds its way forward, towards
whatever end it is destined, most often the sea and all its vastness.
I am glad I took this journey, it reminded me of what I left behind, and has shown me a glimpse of what I travel towards. What do I travel towards? Wait and see.
Good for writing.
