Saturday, 11 June 2011

Passed By

For this post, I planned to show photos of clydesdale horses, but in the tradition of the plans of mice and men gang-ing aft awry, I was forced to change my plans.
On my way to the cavalcade of clydesdales and wagons passing through Dunedin on their way to Forbury Park racecourse, I discovered I'd forgotten to put the camera's chip back in after downloading (uploading?) my last lot of photos.
On to plan B - buy a disposable camera to take the photos. By the time I'd done this (I was walking) I missed the actual cavalcade and had to go on to Forbury to see them there.
I now have to wait for the photos to be processed and scanned before I can post.
Plan B, bullet-point 1; find some old photos in my gallery to post.
I have been thinking about my favourite place in the world a bit lately, so I've gone to that folder to find some of the pictures I took there one fine day in 2010.
In the first picture, if you squeeze your eyes nearly shut and use a whole lot of imagination ... you may be able to just see a little, fair-haired girl wearing a matted, pink, woollen jersey unravelling at the cuffs,  turning the corner there by the paddock with the cows in it. She's coming this way, on her way to Phyllis Popham's dairy. She's wearing gumboots and is fingering a sixpence piece in the pocket of her trousers. She's going to buy lollies from the twopenny tray. 


 piece (Orepuki, Western Southland).


mountains that talk to the sea (Princess Range from Monkey Island, Te Waewae Bay, Orepuki, Western Southland).




"you call that an island?" (Monkey Island, Te Waewae Bay, Orepuki, Western Southland).




backs to the wind (Orepuki cemetery, Western Southland).




looking out (Te Waewae Bay from cemetery, Orepuki, Western Southland).


***


I've been cleaning up and clearing out, papers and stuff from files and came across an old poem of mine scribbled on the back of something else. It's a piece of recent history, I think I must've written it about 11 years ago. It reflects the muddle and middle of family and domesticity: my stage of life at the beginning of the 21st century.


Here it is - unedited.


reaching out from a void
writing words to connect
this is my version
this is how I see it not many make it
through the muddle
bird seed littered carpet
waiting for
muddy footprints to dry
a concerned orthodontist
and wisdom teeth
will I light the fire?
are you feeling cold?
the rhodendron bush needs more light
the white daisy leans forward
eager to be in on kitchen conversations
will the lavender cuttings take?
the rabbit needs more food
I bet the boys won't have remembered to take in the washing
chocolate-topped strawberries, apricots, grapes,
communication without lying
I agree with lying for a reason
what your parents don't know doesn't hurt them
the ones who talk
the ones who won't
talk; some write
instead.

***

6 comments:

jtwebster books said...

Oh dear, about the camera!
I couldn't make it yesterday, but I consoled myself that I'd see awesome pictures on your blog! I wait with bated breath.
Enjoyed the pictures of your favourite place, I've never ventured quite that far before.

susan t. landry said...

i love these photographs! i love the wildness of the trees! so different from New England trees that contain themselves; they are a comfort to the land. yours are an excitation!
--susan

Jan said...

i'M GLAD OTHER FOLK DO STUFF LIKE YOU DID WITH YOUR CAMERA!
What lovely pictures and your poem. It really is nice to keep in touch.

Joyce Ellen Davis said...

This whole thing is Wonderful!!! What a great writer you are!

Clare Dudman said...

Yes! I saw that girl in your first photo, Kay! The detail about the fraying sleeves really brought it to life.

When I look at these pictures it seems cold. I guess it is the light - the way it is bright and low.

The internet really is like 'reaching out from a void' or maybe into one.

Kay McKenzie Cooke said...

Sue - I KNOW! :) And now I am trying to put piccies up Blogger's throwing a fit ... so I am doomed to failure with these horses.

Susan - Thanks! I love your description. The excitations are more a result of reflecting and resisting the wild weather and salt-laden winds.

Jan - Thanks. Oh yes, I do lots of stuff like that!

Joyce - Thank you - you are sweet to say so.

Clare - I am thrilled you can see her! Yes it is cold down in the south of NZ - but that particular day was a warm autumn (if I recollect correctly) day; which can happen!

Harbour

Harbour
'how this all harbours light'