What is beyond the gates? Yes they are rusted, broken and crumbling down…but they are also strangely inviting, inspiring, and interesting. There is something romantic, glamorous and slightly spooky about them…I wonder what I would find if I could venture up the stairs.
It was as if all the leaves on this plant had been sprinkled with loose diamonds….the green leaves were all shimmery and glistening with tiny diamonds it seemed. I looked again and realised it was tiny droplets of rain making the diamond bright sparkles on the leaves, in the morning sunshine.
It rained most of the weekend, but with a break in the weather on sunday afternoon, it was time for a walk along the coastal walkway and stretch the legs. The view never fails to make me feel inspired and refreshed.
Carnations have been out of favour for such a long time…but who can deny the beauty of this striking bloom? In a sweet bouquet of pale pink, cream and apricot carnations, this one riotous, brilliant crimson carnation appeared to be the odd one out. The excessively frilly petals seemed to also add to the overall flamboyance of the flower. It seems original, unusual and slightly crazy, and I, for that reason, love it.
It was time to get out. A long beach walk in the middle of winter seemed sensible. So that is what we did…we gathered up four kids who had spent all morning staring at various screens, two soccer balls, one camera and headed out into the brisk winter air for an afternoon at a beach not far from our home.
We had a great game of beach football, we walked and walked, had running races, jumped streams, collected shells, wrote our names in the sand, one even played in the water (even in July!). Two of us carried shoes, jackets, shirts and the collected shells. After hours on the beach, we were all a bit cold, a bit tired, but happy, laughing and sandy as we headed home.
I felt recharged and reconnected and really alive. The fog has started to clear and as it did, I saw the most beautiful view right there in front of me. A sign, I think.
There was a low, dense fog rolling into the valleys and a few chimneys on the hills in the distance, and nearby, curling out a trail of grey smoke. I imagine people stoked their fire places to warm up and dry out after three solid days of rain. Everything is drenched and it is cold, but it also looks so sparkly and clean after such a deluge. The storm clouds continued to gather on the horizon at dusk. All combined, it was a magical scene, for a fleeting moment before darkness.
I spotted this tree in Auckland recently. It’s silver white trunk was so smooth and shiny and seemed to go on for miles and miles toward toward the sky.
I imagined what it would be like to be a bird flying around and resting at the top of the tree, in the shelter of the branches, and looking out at the world from there.
at the Zoo at least…
a mud bath for two?
Or just a lazy Sunday snooze together!
A protea. It’s taking ages to blossom. But it is stunning even as a bud waiting to bloom so I don’t mind. It has many shades of pink (which I like) and is strangely velvet smooth to touch. Quite spectacular!
When I was growing up here in provincial New Zealand, it was all about sheep. There were apparently 60 million sheep and only 3 million of us people…a fact all children seemed to know. You couldn’t go anywhere without seeing sheep on the landscape. Now, apart from the odd lifestyle block with a couple of lambs, the rural scene is almost deserted of sheep. The vista of farmland now is entirely dominated by intensive dairy farming. But I did spot this little woolly scene while travelling recently. A sign of times gone by and I wondered as I took the photo… where did all the sheep, with their economic promises of wool and meat, (and not too forget their insanely cute little lambs) go?