Theres a place near my house called the Merri Creek, and despite how the name sounds, its quite a beautiful and tranquil place. If you walk a few blocks off of a main road, suddenly you can see sprawling green grass and the distant echo of bubbling water as it makes its way down the stream. I love it there. The eucalyptus trees, the river, the fact that its stationed in the middle of a bustling suburbia yet it seems so quiet. Sometimes I match my breathing to the sway of the branches. I wonder how long those trees have been standing there, what they have seen. My favourite place along the Merri Creek is the collection of large crossing rocks. In the summer, the creek shallows slightly, and I sit on the rocks and read or listen to music. Sometimes I even just watch the water flow, watch it ripple and sway, moving constantly without a care in the world. The creek is always constant, always moving, regardless of what going on in the world.