A Walk Through a Children’s Book

Daily Miles: 27.97 | Total Miles: 6826.29

I woke up at 6am, the cold already making itself known inside the room. Wrapped in layers and holding a hot coffee between my hands, I slowly began to welcome the day. I've now discovered that many of the hotel beds here can be heated. Is that a British thing? Or uniquely Australian? Either way, I’m not quite used to it—sleeping on a heated mattress feels a bit like lying on a warm stove. Interesting, but not exactly comforting.

By 7am, I stepped outside. The winter frost had painted the world in silver and the sun was beginning to rise behind soft clouds—one of those moments where you can literally feel the quiet beauty of the earth. Today’s route was another relatively short one, so I chose to run along quiet country roads parallel to the highway.

It turned into a journey through what felt like the pages of a children’s book.

Rabbits darted across the road and disappeared into little holes in the earth. Kangaroos emerged from the bushes, pausing to look at me before leaping away. Parrots—vibrant green, red, and blue—danced in the air, their colors radiant in the soft morning light. The white ones with the red-pink bellies—are they cockatoos? Galahs? I don’t know all their names, but they were stunning. And with the winter frost still settled on the ground, the colors popped even more. It was magical, serene, and surreal.

Eventually, the road turned to gravel, and the pace slowed with the rolling hills, but the quietude—just me and the landscape—was good for the soul. I passed barely any cars, just the sound of my steps, birds calling overhead, and the breeze sweeping through the trees. Raptors circled above, and other birds—some quite loud—called out as if narrating my journey.

It was one of those days that passes like every other but will never return in quite the same way. The kind of day you can only live once, where everything around you invites you to be completely alive and present. A day where the world reminds you how beautiful it can be—how its colors and rhythms can warm your heart, even when your fingers are freezing.

When I arrived in Yass, I did some shopping and checked into a hotel. I would have liked to go farther, but there’s no accommodation for quite a long stretch, and the forecast shows heavy rain coming. So tomorrow, at least, I’ll start dry—and then, well, I’ll sing, dance, and run through the rain.

My hotel room has a bathtub. What a treat. I sank into hot water and let the day replay in my mind, grateful for everything—the cold, the birds, the kangaroos, the stillness, the color. Another mattress with a heating function—of course. But tonight, it feels almost charming.

I feel beautiful. See you tomorrow. Andrea