Hunter's moon

Mate Vintage shirt; op shop slip dress; Asos boots; vintage/markets jewellery and sunglasses.

There's nothing like the house you grew up in. The water tastes sweeter -- especially when it's rainwater -- the sleep is deeper, the smells and sounds are familiar and the shower pressure is always perfect. Even the concrete verandahs feel softer underfoot.
As an angsty teen, I used to resent living so far out of town, especially with the town being, more-often-than-not, best described as a 'total hole'. But as I get older I can see why my parent's chose the spot, and every time I visit, I'm increasingly grateful that they did.

Earlier this month I spent a week at home. Most of the time, I was just drinking ciders while swimming in the creek, listening to the birds and cicadas, singing songs to the dogs, leatherworking with my dad and altering op shop finds with my mum and aunty... It's the good life.

But all too soon I was back on a plane to the city, and here I am.
Although, I am pleased that this time when I returned to Melbourne, it did feel like I was coming home, just in a different way.