Waking up here everything feels different. As I stir, there is a crunching noise somewhere to my left, a bush turkey perhaps, or maybe a possum. A faint light starts peeking through my eyes, and a kookaburra's cackle erupts nearby. Further away, yet not too far comes a howl, a dingo, searching for something. I lay, not quite awake and listen. The rumble of the ocean, the swaying of the trees in the breeze, it's never silent, never still. The bush is alive and always moving. As my limbs stretch and fold, I become aware of something else just outside. A crackle, a warmth, a campfire and the distinct smell of coffee brewing. It's a new day in the bush, where adventures await. Our own little slice of heaven, over the dunes and faraway.