Tag: life and death

Last dance

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She is tattered, at the end of her short life. Her body shakes and shivers. I tiptoe closer but she’s too preoccupied to bother with me. Slowly she clasps a bunch of leaves with thin black legs and draws her abdomen up into a sickle shape, with the tip pressing under a leaf depositing a tiny pale-yellow egg. She repeats this process several times resting in between, vibrating. It’s a big effort and I marvel at her energy and determination. At her peak she may have been laying between 300-400 eggs at a rate of 40 eggs a day! Now on her last legs she is perhaps the last of the female monarchs that will visit our swan plant/milkweed. There is a slim chance her offspring might slowly pupate through winter and emerge as new adults in spring. And there are other reminders that this is a time, a season, of dying and release.

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After the cyclone

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When the tail end of Cyclone Gabrielle spun away from us in Pauatahanui things became eerily still. I had an intense urge to climb up somewhere, perhaps to try and make sense of the climate tragedy that just happened further north. At the top of Kahu Road the rain and wind departed and the sky started to clear. The only sound was the intense ringing of cicadas, as if shouting out the shock that vibrated through our collective psyche.  

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Departures

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Some of the neighbours have gone suddenly, without word. I can’t say I really knew them well. They lived halfway down Postgate Drive and I stopped by to say hello now and again. I had always admired their intricate home which took ages to build. They were a secretive lot though. Some said they belonged to a ‘Secret Service’.

I learned that night-time was their thing. The younger members ate remarkable amounts of fast food, while the adults, who had been through life changing events, were attracted to visiting others for drinks and snacks. Though no one seems sure of who they were visiting exactly. Except it was a life-giving exchange for both. 

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Wayfinding by Moon and Stars

nikkirwright3 Comments

I might be going balmy trying to rescue moths that have fluttered in through the kitchen door at night. It seems rather futile in the challenging swirl of the times – wars, pollution, deep fakes. What does it matter? But moths make me interested in the idea of navigation, of finding a way through. They are mostly nocturnal and orient themselves by the moon and stars. Our city lights confuse and startle this ancient ability to chart a course, and so the fragile beings batter away their short lives at our windows and streetlights that shine into the darkness – false beacons.  Some of our ancestors shared that same ability to navigate using celestial bodies, and some people still do. Others quest even further beyond moon and stars for direction and meaning. Are we all somehow drawn together through space, searching for a pathway beyond the incomprehensible?   

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