Treasure hunting at Owenga Beach, Rēkohu (Chatham Island)
"The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the smell of the sea in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of spring the sharp and tongueless cry - these things will always be the same."
Thomas Wolfe - "You Can't Go Home Again"
I'm writing again. (But who wants to see pictures of notebook scrawlings and scrunched up pieces of paper? In lieu of those, I give you a winter sunset and my attempt at capturing the elusive grey/purple/redness of the sky here). This place is equal parts hard and healing and has prompted me to pick up my pen again to try and write it out.
The road to Port Hutt.