Two and a half hours south of Sydney, I arrived just as the sun was slipping behind the gum trees, that golden hour glow wrapping everything like a warm hug. I poured myself a “just cos” wine and sat in stillness, watching the sky soften as the day quietly let go. The air carried that earthy eucalyptus scent, grounding me instantly, like a deep exhale I didn’t realise I needed. Everything in life is just so busy, and sometimes we need to make the time for these moments.

I nestled into the off grid cabin, lit the wood fire and made myself a simple dinner. There was something so comforting about the crackle of the fire, the gentle flicker lighting the space. I read my book in bed, cocooned in warmth, and drifted off to sleep feeling completely held.

The next morning I woke slowly, greeted by the soft sounds of friendly cows nearby as I sipped my coffee. The air was crisp and fresh, the kind that wakes up your senses. The cabin was beautifully simple. Completely off grid, yet the flushing toilet felt like a little luxury. Back to basics in the best way, with a portable gas cooker inside and a BBQ outside. A large bed and a single for an extra guest, though this time it was just me. A solo trip with Mother Nature, exactly what this Earth Angel needed.

Outside, a gas system heated the water for the outdoor tub and shower. Standing out there, surrounded by bushland, warm water on my skin and the scent of gum leaves in the air, felt almost surreal.

I followed the hand drawn map from the guest book down to the nearby river. A few kilometres through the bush, fully present with every step, every sound, every rustle of leaves. There is just something about it that speaks straight to my soul. When I reached the sandy edge, I took the chance to exfoliate using the earth beneath my feet. It felt playful and grounding all at once. Before long I was diving into the fresh river water, emerging with silky skin and a full heart.

I spent the afternoon simply sitting and observing. No rush, no noise, just being. It was filling my cup in the quietest, most beautiful way. I kept an eye out for the local platypus, though no sightings this time. I like to think he was off on his own little adventure while I was on mine.

Back at my humble cabin, I read another chapter of my book as the light began to fade. I ran a hot outdoor bath and soaked as the sun set, the sky shifting colours above me. That moment felt like pure magic.

That night I slept with the window open, letting the cool breeze drift through while I stayed completely snuggled under the covers. I felt warm, safe and deeply at peace.

When it was time to leave the next day, I felt something had shifted within me. Peaceful, recharged and realigned with my heart. Like I had gently found my way back to myself.

I quietly thanked this little bush cabin for holding me, for the stillness, the comfort, the simplicity I did not realise I had lost. And in that moment, I noticed that sometimes you have to get lost to come home.