Category: New Zealand

+

Leading the Brigade

My Auckland e-bike, a long black thing sporting a waterproof saddlebag and a rectangle motor which spoons my seat tube, is heavy. The bike is hard to hoist over fences and it gets caught going up curbs. It’s tricky to swing around to fit the bike stands and near impossible to rotate it to hide the saddlebag from lazy snatchers. It’s especially difficult to … Read More Leading the Brigade

+

The Trouble with Dozing in Parks

“Hey, excuse me?” called a voice. I jerked awake; and was horrified to find I had slipped into fetal position mid-doze. I pushed myself up to lean, awkward, like some uni-legged creature. There was a man standing behind the knee-height wire fence which separated Starling Park from the streets of Ranui. He had black pants and a dusty white t-shirt, which revealed sleeves of … Read More The Trouble with Dozing in Parks

+

A Week of No Trash

The mission: go a full week, from Saturday morning until the following Saturday, without placing any item into a bin, either a rubbish bin or a recycling bin. Alter the lifestyle for the week to be one where throwing away something isn’t necessary. This looks like: Eating the entire apple, sans the stem, so I wouldn’t have to throw away the core. Saving the … Read More A Week of No Trash

+

A Case for Willfulness

The sea— at the lip of which I sink, slow silly my toes in sucking black sand perch the heavy surf swell tunneling past my ankles –still hasn’t made up its mind.

+

Black Bird

  The black bird on a black tree sprouting black leaves whistles at me; me, in my blended sweater wooden bench my skin dipped caramel and the glint of inside lamplight against my watch face.

That man, there

  the one at the corner table with a steady drip, drip, drip of the rain gutter run off on the vinyl table which splashes against his wristwatch, even I can see the water drops on his wristwatch even I, from my middle table, my table safe under the wide awning, safe from the refuse of rain that pads the streets with puddles that … Read More That man, there

+

A Walk on the Beach in the Evening

  Sun shades ripple over black ant dunes and I, cast, with earth toes spread uneven relaxed am tall and small and quiet. My hair, golden unkept electric the rogue wind calls my soul responds.

Shadow Dance

  As I nap in the currents of undiluted ocean with its vibrant sea salt cleansing my salty soul, I notice: I am taller here. Cast long, with the shadows uninterrupted by anything– my shadow is graceful and still and I wonder: what might she be thinking?

+

The Great Bellowing Taranaki Wave

“Okay, we’ll stop here.” I let the fins of my kayak paddles rest against the smooth ocean, just as my right shoulder was reaching its throbbing limit. I was relieved I wouldn’t have to ask for a break; when I told David I had kayaked before, I had failed to say that “before” meant five or six years ago. I wondered what effect the … Read More The Great Bellowing Taranaki Wave

+

Composting

When my body wakes me. It’s still dark. I open the window above my bed. The whispering dawn snuggles down. Down into my hair. Down into the space between me and my sleeping bag. Which I sleep in despite the closet full of sheets. The whispering dawn lifts me out. Out into my running shorts. Into my cheetah print bandana. Into my bright blue … Read More Composting

+

Half a Year Away, Away (and Happy 300!)

Half a year has gone by since I left Kansas. I’m still learning various currency exchange rates and the metric system, so still going strong (relative phrase). Relativity is a fickle friend. If I think on some of the travelers I have met—Liz and Hadyn in Assisi, who have been backpacking the world since summer 2016, Sara in Mostar, who traveled alone for three … Read More Half a Year Away, Away (and Happy 300!)

Warmth in a Morning

  I wake up the long way this morning: my fire reflects last night’s hearth the ashes cold the glass remembers. Cold cuts grow like cast iron Sundays & I find it so easy to blink slow.