The tiny home waited quietly among the bush. Small yet somehow grand, the kind of place that softens you the moment you step inside.

Rain tapped gently on the tin roof as I arrived and lingered through the night and most of the next day. A steady rhythm wrapped the home in calm and filled the air with the rich, earthy scent of Australian bushland: wet earth, eucalyptus and crisp green leaves.

The home unfolded simply yet thoughtfully. A large bathroom with two shower heads and a compost toilet. A cosy lounge and kitchen in the middle, stocked with everything I needed. At the far end, a bedroom with coral coloured robes sitting there so invitingly.

On the dining table, a welcome card sat beside a sweet treat and a bowl of home grown fruit still carrying the faint scent of the garden. Double doors opened to an outdoor sitting area. A leather couch rested next to a barbeque and a giant bath made for long soaks under the sky.

The rain kept me inside that first day and I let it. Hours passed slowly reading my book, sipping tea, stretching into gentle yoga, wrapped in a coral robe. Doing very little and feeling everything soften inside me. It really was everything this earth angel needed.

At dusk I sank into the outdoor bath. Hot water wrapped around me while cool evening air brushed my skin. Frogs sang through the rain, the bush breathing gently around me. Steam curled into the air and the scent of wet bushland surrounded me. It felt intimate, like the earth itself was holding me.

By morning the rain had cleared. The bushland shimmered fresh and alive. I wandered slowly, inhaling that clean earthy scent while spotting kangaroos grazing in the aftermath. A short drive brought me to Sailors Falls where I tasted the purest spring water straight from the earth. The waterfall revealed herself radiant after the rain. I smiled, flirting with her, and she flirted back. I stretched on the giant boulders like a lizard sun baking in the sunlight, warming my face as the waterfall stream trickled around me.

Moments like this feed something deep in my soul. The earth beneath my feet. Sunlight on my skin. Water moving through the valley. Nature loves me back when I am slow enough to notice her. And then she loves me right back.