A Slow Morning
It was the last day of June. I woke up late that morning, around ten o’clock. There was no rush, no sense of being pressed for time. Sitting at the table with a simple breakfast of toast, I felt the comfort of a peaceful morning. The atmosphere of the house seemed to slow the flow of time itself, allowing me to simply enjoy being present.
By half past ten, I began preparing for departure. I said goodbye to my host, his wife, and their dog before checking my bags one last time. This time, I chose to leave behind what I no longer needed. Shedding the extra weight felt like more than just a physical change—it was as if my heart had become lighter too. Before leaving, I was handed four mandarins, a small but deeply warming gift. Without yesterday’s encounters, this morning would not have felt the same. I carried only gratitude with me as I set off.
Adding Flowers to the Journey
My first stop of the day was a hardware store called Bunnings. The purpose was simple but meaningful: to prepare for a new kind of journey, one that would include “flowers” and “sprouts” alongside my bicycle and luggage.
I purchased gardening supplies, spending about fifty dollars in total, and carefully attached the new companions to my bike. The change was immediate. It no longer felt like I was traveling alone. With flowers now part of the journey, there was a sense of sharing the road, of having someone—something—by my side.
That thought shifted my perspective. Until now, rain had always been an enemy to a traveler. But for the flowers, rain is a blessing. Perhaps from now on, rainy days would feel a little less heavy, maybe even welcome.
Towards the Next Destination
With this new style of travel beginning, my larger destination is Sydney. But first, I planned to head toward the nearby city of Frankston. It was too far to reach in a single day, so I would camp along the way.
The cycling trail stretched on smoothly, a comfortable route where the pedals moved almost on their own. Around four in the afternoon, I came across a small clearing hidden within the forest. It felt like a secret place, a quiet refuge. I decided this would be my campsite for the night.
It wasn’t a day filled with dramatic events. Yet within me, there was a quiet but profound change. The flowers had given me a new perspective: the feeling that I was no longer traveling alone, but sharing the journey together.
