"The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness"
2 August 2009
Iron Gate hut
What a perfect day. To walk slowly through the dripping forest along and above the river unencumbered by heavy pack or need to get anywhere or do anything. Freedom to relish in, and the quiet smiles upon our faces all day reflected that reality. This was our world today, ours alone to absorb and simply be amongst. I have no words to write sitting here in the candle light, the warmth of our little mountain sanctuary deeper than the small fire which warms it. There is no place I would rather be. That is both beautiful and melancholic, it is also the Truth.
To sit by the river and be in the moment a Whio lands nearby and observe him stand there whistling his tune and preening himself, sharing some of his day with me! The most special moment of all really.
Then to walk in the mystic forest with John. The myriad shades of green, some luminescent and glowing, others muted and silent, but all adding to the brilliance and miracle of this place. Climbing above the river and hearing her song muted, then dropping back down to full volume, reminded of her moody loveliness.
A mountain forest wet with rain. A bit above the Oroua river listening to a symphony of Nature's music.
Another little beautiful seemingly innocuous stream on his way to the river come to life.
Down on the Oroua where yesterday would have been a raging muddy torrent. A good spot to climb down from the forest to the river and boil the billy.
Cup of tea coming right up!
"Stormy Forest Walk"
The wind plays a melody on each and every
branch, leaf, and twig, she misses not one
Every fibre of the forest part of the serenade
it is all dancing and swaying to the Enchanting Song
Water joins in with its own sweet chorous
the unrelenting droplets of rain
like huge shiny baubles from the sky
splattering, hissing, dripping
onto the forest floor
joined by the incessant quiet plops
of luminescent moisture
from the lush green bush
fluorescent and glowing
The crescendo of the raging river joins in,
brown, dirty, very angry
soon dominating like kettle drums
Booming and symbols crashing in unison
until I climb away from her again
till she is a muted presence
in this Dance of the Forest
I slake my thirst inside and out
The Symphony of a stormy forest walk
in the mountains wet with rain
overwhelms me with the wildness
remote responsibility for myself
The mountain hut lies ahead
Warmth, Dry Clothes
The Billy to Boil
and the Rain
still will fall and bounce
off the tin roof
outside the river will still roll by
I am here..........
Another timeless spot in the forest.
The Ruahines always means Up!!
The forest wet with rain, mosses and lichens on the side of a beech tree, dripping water and glowing.
Iron Gate hut
The sun sets on another interaction with these mountains, the Ruahine. John and I enjoy a last wee dram, the fire crackles in the wood stove, and the hut is illuminated by the flickering candle light. John and I laugh and smile as we recall memories of trips gone by, soon to be joined by the ones we have gathered here. An ever growing treasure trove. These ranges are part of me, my heart and soul, yet the day will come when I can no longer travel here. That really doesn't sadden me for all I will have to do is close my eyes, open my heart, and I will be here.