Bewitched by the bush
It’s evening at the billabong and all I can hear is the cascading chitter of crickets and clicking of frogs. A glowing night sky is reflected in the still water that lies on either side of the torchlit path, countless stars tucked in and blinking sleepily around a waning moon. I stand like a woman bewitched, slack-jawed and staring. Who would have thought you’d find this so close to Australia’s biggest city?
It was with mixed emotions that I’d arrived at Billabong Retreat some hours earlier following a 50-minute train ride to Maraylya,
