Tag: shelter

Arrivals

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New neighbours moved in a few weeks back. No one said anything but a couple of families set up camp in our front yard. I say ‘our yard’ but I’m not convinced it is.  A piece of paper suggests we technically own the property, but does anyone really ‘own’ parts of Earth? Who was here before me, us – settlers, early Māori, more than humans? The recent arrivals seem to have a keener sense of ownership and purpose than me. One family is numerous, busy and bossy. They zig zag around me, in an irritated fashion, on their way in and out of the property. The other lot are more discreet, and quieter, occupying the far end of the courtyard. 

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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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Lemon and Honey

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Two incredibly good things made possible by insect pollinators. I’m stating the obvious of course.

But stirring the umpteenth cup of hot lemon and honey this week, for the whole family flattened by a nasty cold, the simple connectedness of it all, embodied in the therapeutic drink, strikes through my brain fog. The lemons, from a scraggy tree in the garden, were pollinated by bees and other insects several months ago. I remember watching them. And the multiflora honey, from local father and daughter beekeeper team Mike and Shona of Harris Road Honey, is made by honeybees, feeding on flowers around this neighbourhood. I stumble back to sleep, nourished by the drink and the interdependencies of insect, lemon tree, honey and human.

Moments in Warmth

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I think I’m becoming obsessed with the temperature gauge as the weather flip flops between extremes. No sooner has a cold southerly snap arrived than it vanishes, followed by sudden and often intense heat. The other day it climbed to 17C in the shade and, for a time, the sun strike on our deck was 32C. Too hot to sit there! We heard on the radio that Japan had recorded its hottest June temperature ever – 40.2C. But the northern hemisphere is not even into its proper summer yet!

When the air temperature climbs I come across moments of frenzied insect activity on some of my walks. It seems to be the exotic plants they are dipping into such as flowering bottlebrush, dandelions, gorse, lavender, rosemary, buttercups, tree lucerne and nightshade, plus some natives including the odd manuka bush and hebes. What would they forage on in winter if it wasn’t for the introduced plants – some of them considered weeds.

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Queens and Storms

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The weather has turned. A low-pressure bomb travelled up from Antarctica and into the Tasman Sea, lashing thunder, rain, hail and tornadoes onto our coast.

Walking down to Pauatahanui Inlet, my nose and eyes stream in the wind, tips of fingers icy. I notice a white-faced heron, hunched in ruffled grey coat, observing the brown waters that race into the inlet from Whitby’s streams and drains-turned-torrents, flipping storm water lids. Seagulls turn steeply, their undersides flashing white under pink clouds. The sound of traffic as evening commuters head home to warmth, children and dinners. A driver yawns. Back up at Postgate Park a huge gum tree has crashed down, perhaps overnight. Its remains lie in butchered lumps and splinters, after someone has been in with a chainsaw. Old yellow toadstools lie in the grass nearby, rotting like sloughed skin. On the news I hear that hundreds of kororā/little blue penguins have washed ashore up North at Ninety Mile Beach. A DOC spokesperson believes they are starving to death as climate change is creating waters too hot for the fish they feed on.

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