I am like the Australian Bushland. I am not traditionally beautiful. I am prickly. I am thorny. I am hard to make a path through.

But then again, I AM like the Australian Bushland. I survive when more gentle plants wither. I am not pretty, yet I have my own internal beauty. And if you look close enough, you'll see past all the prickles and thorns and catch all the delicate flowers hiding amongst them.

The Australian Bushland burns. But out of the flame comes new life. Out of it's blackest moments comes its most vivid revitalisation.

At the moment I am just Burning...but I know, in time, I will rise again...an Aussie Phoenix...Revitalised.