From the bus stop

If someone had told me, when I was young, that I would one day leave the cool northern hemisphere climate, my birthplace, I wouldn’t have believed them. 

Why would I want to trade in grey, cloudy skies, and drizzly rain that clings to your clothes and hair?

This morning I find myself sitting at the bus stop. Across one of the busiest roads in Sydney I see: a blue sky; lush green leafed trees; and a palm tree.  
  

5 thoughts on “From the bus stop

Leave a Reply to Ngobesing Romanus Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s