Spring into Summer.

November. Ahh, we've finally come to a point in the year where those pink, Hello Kitty flannelette pajamas (err, that's probs just me) can go back into hiding and it's kosher to leave the house in less than four layers (unless you're in Sydney or Melbourne right now - in which case the schizophrenic weather is probably shitting *cough, I mean, moving you to tears). Currently, I'm lounging in a giant wicker chair on Hayman Island, overlooking our gloriously private beach (as you do), silently pondering life. As my sister said earlier, "Emma, you spend a lot of time in fantasy land, don't you?" Err, yep. I think I've spent this entire week dreaming of penthouse suites, huge stadium concerts, starring roles in Broadway musicals and a dreamy French-Riviera wedding with my future James Bond-esque husband (minus the constant near-death experiences and one-night stands with hot Russians). Oh gosh, what is wrong with me? 

Moving right along now, as I watch the catamarans sail past, I'm mentally preparing myself to re-enter normal life tomorrow (which really isn't that normal anymore, so I swear I won't complain) to finish writing my album...hurrah, the end is nigh! I've had the most beautiful seven days eating exuberant buffet breakfast's, swimming in the Coral Sea, laughing with my family and recalibrating my immune system. Hayman truly has been nothing short of magical.

Bye for now, as I drift off into an afternoon siesta to accompany this peachy sunset...*sigh

Images: 1,3,4 unknown; 2,6 Rachel Kara; 5 Hayman

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