I’ve discovered a growing connection to the earth over the past months.

Moving here was never logical – leaving my family and friends and life in the city doesn’t make any sense. Somehow though I was drawn to do it and knew I would be restless until I did.

I couldn’t have articulated it like that then. I knew I felt calmer when I visited family in the country and I wanted to build my life around that. But now I feel more that this piece of earth – these rivers, these trees, this sky above the plains – was calling me back.

It is hard not to feel a connection to the earth here. At night, the stars shimmer above you. It looks as though you could touch them, but if you stand in the quiet dark long enough you start to feel the thousands of lightyears expanding out before you.

In the mornings the leaves of the gum trees catch the morning rays, dancing in the breeze like they have always done. The cockatoos sparkle in the afternoon sunlight, as they argue and change their minds about which tree to sleep.

The days pass around you. The grass gets greener; the air gets colder; seasons come and go.

A few months ago I realised I wanted some rituals to express this growing connection I was feeling. I have always been a big believer in the human need for ritual (not necessarily as part of a theology) but have never really settled into any. I now think that is a big missing piece in my life and is one of the things holding me back from being 100% myself.

The connection got me interested in earth-based spirituality, so I did a bit of reading to see if it made sense for me. A lot of it does – the focus on the sacred feminine in particular.

So now I want to create rituals that are more specific to where I am. Rituals that embrace the connection to the earth and this place that I am in. I haven’t got there yet, but I have started something.

A few weeks ago I went for a walk in the forest. I sat down beside a creek and drew a sketch. It was the face of a woman. I started to paint her on the side of my caravan. She watches the sun rise over the forest.

She reminds me each day to stop and be mindful. I cannot wait to finish her.