When I was around six years of age I loved to sit beneath the spreading branches of an old coast banksia and dream.
I'd pick up fallen seed cases and peel back the outer covering to reveal a velvety chocolate brown interior. And then I'd stroke the velvet, letting my fingers feel the sensual softness. Looking up into the gnarled branches -- scribbled with pale green lichens -- I'd see yellow flowers, glowing like candles in the morning sunshine.
As a six-year-old (with two younger brothers) I was a dreamer and treasured moments alone, especially when surrounded by Nature's beauty.
Now in my 60s, and living on Phillip Island where coast banksias are relatively common, I remember my childhood and still relate to those feelings of wonder and awe.