MAPUA WHARF

AND THE 30 kM BIKE-RIDE

I will never forget the day I biked to Mapua Wharf. While I may have highly overestimated my biking ability - probably closer to a 16 km limit than the 30 km it took to get there - this trip was beautiful. The trail we followed, called The Great Taste Trail, took us past the harbour, round small estuaries, through vineyards and orchards and finally to a tiny ferry, which chugged on over to the wharf.

The entire time, I was caught in a balance. On one hand was my task: of trying to simply survive the whole bike ride without melting into a puddle of sweat. On the other hand: a gorgeous, ever changing scene in every direction. It somewhat helped, though, to move my mind from my sore legs to this blackberry bush on the right, or that streaming sun filtering through the tall pines.

Once we arrived at Mapua Wharf, my sister and I flopped down to bask in the later-day sun. We watched lazily as the local kids jumped from the edge of the wharf into the river.  My sense of achievement was immense, and having spent the day in the midst of nature, I felt like I was glowing. I must say, after 30 kms of riding, those fish and chips tasted even better.

FEATHERS AT THE AVIARY

It is moulting season at the Aviary, and Sophie and I are searching in earnest for a very long, poke-y twig. 

Having found a fairly suitable one, in and among some old bushes, we then wrap the end in spider's webs, which were caught in the metal net of the cage nearby. The pretty plumed parrots inside are silently watching us, and I will them a 'hello, nice to meet you.'

Then, carefully carefully, Sophie pokes the stick through the net of the enclosure, and I direct her hand this way and that, hoping to catch that elusive brightly coloured feather on the end of the twig of spider's webs.

Later, we look over our small prizes: a tufty yellow and white feather, like the down inside a jacket; a longer red and green feather; and a beautiful blue and black one, like shifting shadows in water.

I always like to thank both plants and animals, when I find such gifts as these, and so I send my thoughts out to them with an energy of gratitude. 

CHRISTMAS IN SUMMER

SANDCASTLES & PAVLOVAS

Christmas in summer sounds a little odd, I know, but it is really a glorious thing. Here in New Zealand, we do things a little differently in the holiday season...

Sometime in mid November, mum would take us kids to the Santa Parade, to see all the floats dressed in tinsel, and laden with children in elves costume. 

Somebody from school told me at a very young age that Santa Claus was not real, and thus I never expected presents from him. Instead, I could go directly to the source: asking my parents for all manner of items throughout the year, in the hope one of them would show up on christmas morning.

Skip forward in time, and it is christmas day. It is hot, almost stifling, as I put the potatoes in the oven, and check on the turkey, which is sizzling away. The dining room is strewn with wrapping paper, as we opened our presents early in the morning, (because who can wait?). Around me are all the makings of a great lunch, with turkey and ham, potatoes and brussel sprouts, and cranberry sauce and gravy. For dessert is pavlova, a pouffy meringue of a thing, light as air and covered in cream and berries. All of which will be eaten by around 2:00 or so. Then we can finally escape the heat, and head to the beach as a family, and join all those other families lolling around on the sand and in the waves.