Category: New Zealand
When it happens, it is my toes that feel the thrill the most. They are housed in sandals, and in their breezy half-naked happiness they wiggle against the black pedals. If I were better at balancing, I would stretch out my arms like an albatross and soar (I usually attempt this one-armed to not the same effect). I wish I could chuck off my … Read More Intersection Choreography
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
“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
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
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
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?
“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