Thursday, 10 March 2016
Andersons Bay inlet from Silverton Street
looking across Bayfield Park towards the inlet and Dunedin city
Andersons Bay bus shelter, depicting part of the same scene which appears in the photos above
bird roost showing spoonbills taking an afternoon nap, bills tucked into their chests. On the stand, a shag (cormorant) follows suit
one of my favourite trees - ngaio (native to New Zealand)
a sign on the wall at the local hgh school
The photos above are ones I've taken on my walk around the neighbourhood in the past fortnight. I have got back into walking again after a bit of a lapse through the warm summer. Whenever I thought of walking, the thought of adding the perspiration that that activity brings on to my already-over-heated system, seemed too much to bear; so I resisted the temptation and instead, languished indoors finishing my novel
Just about there! Only a few thousand words to go and the first draft will be finished. Once the end has indeed been reached, I shall leave it for a while, returning to it when my memory of it has sufficiently dimmed. At that point, I shall read it through with fresh eyes. Hopefully in that way any glaring mistakes will be evident.
While on this self-inflicted hiatus, I will be busily sorting through family photos and historical records ready for a family reunion being held down south during Easter.
I also look forward to being more present. One thing I've noticed about writing in a sustained, focussed way (which I've discovered a novel demands) is how much you have to remove yourself from people. I've tried not to feel too guilty about this, knowing that there was going to be a finishing point and I would again be able to engage. Until the next novel, anyway.
Autumn, my favourite season, has arrived. Even though this means the roses are beginning to wilt and the prospect of tulips, poppies and cornflowers has become a very distant one, this is more than made up for by the burnished shades of autumn leaves and cooler days to keep my temerature at normal.
I will keep this short. Like the lines for a poem I thought of today as I gazed out at the fading leaves of plants and heard the tired toiling of a bee.
Autumn arrives to take
the gloss off
summer. A nuzzling bee
of the toil of holding on
until the end
of this turning,
burn of seasons.
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