A catch-up of photos from my stay in Wellington.
We went for a walk along Pukerua Bay on the Saturday; the wood drifts evidence of a recent storm.
This rock is called Elephant Rock ... I wonder why?
From elephants to ladybirds ... this one was resting on a dried-out piece of kelp.
Large trees, large seas.
Stormy Petrels that didn't survive the storm. Sadly, there were a lot of them lying dead along the shore.
Soup from a thermos for lunch ... food always tastes better eaten like this.
Pauatahanui Inlet - water fowl retreat and reserve.
A representative of a feral group of fowl. We stopped to say hello. This rooster seemed pleased to show off his fine plumage.
Then the snow hit. It hasn't snowed in Wellington for forty years, so it caused a lot of excitement.
Part of the reason for heading north (apart from visiting family) was to read poetry as an invited reader for NZPS.
However the polar blast that hit Wellington right on the day of my reading, put the kybosh on a large turnout. It turned out to be a very small gathering around one table at the Thistle Inn. Small gatherings often create their own charm; which proved to be the case.
Before the reading took place, I became stranded in the city and unable to get back to my sister's place to pick up the material I was going to read from. My sister and b-i-l had dropped me off at NZ's national museum, Te Papa, in order to hear American poet, Joy Harjo (who was excellent; I was very pleased I went, even though it did mean I got myself stranded.)
After the event, I headed for the railway station in order to make my way back by train to my sister's place. As I watched the flakes thicken and felt the temperature plummet, it became apparent that I was going to have to spend the night in town. There was now no way, even if I did make it back up to their home, that my sister and b-i-l were going to be able to bring me back into the city for the reading that night.
Phone calls were made, with the result that poet Tim Jones and his wife Kay, kindly offered to have me stay with them. Kay also arranged to meet me and withdraw my two poetry books from the library with her card, so that I had material to read from.
I bought a toothbrush and some toothpaste and maybe felt a little bit of what it must feel like to be a refugee.
Now I am back in Dunedin where I belong. It is good to go and it is good to get back. I had a great time, but east, west, home is best.