Back in Stillwater sitting at my dining table watching the dawn begin to disclose the details of the day, I can’t help but wonder where the future will take us.
It’s winter here now. I like the winter.
I’ve just stoked the fire with fresh logs so that the house will be warm when Anna wakes up.
There is something very cosy and appealing about a warm house when it’s cold outside. My family in Christchurch have just had a heavy snowfall with the deep snow all around their house and it looks so welcoming and idyllic.
We left our boat in the south of Holland when the temperature there was in the low 30’s.
It is such a contrast in the space of a week to have been searching for shade in the hot afternoon sun wearing teeshirts and sun hats, to stoking the fire in a dark wintery morning.
I really liked the heat in Europe, it doesn’t seem to suck the life out of you and you don’t get burned by the sun either. There is no sign of the sunblock slap-on and after a long day in the sun you don’t get that hot crackly feeling on your skin at the end of the day. It just goes nicely brown.
It’s also conducive to conversation and relaxation with many small groups gathering under trees and large umbrellas enjoying company while the hottest hours of the day roll past.
You can see the sense in the siesta in hot mediterranean countries.
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| One of our garden Tuis. The one Anna calls "the Watcher" because he is always peering into our windows to see what we are up to. He is glad we are back. |
So, how is it being back in New Zealand?
I have been asked this question many times in the last week and I’m not sure how to answer without offense.
Yes, this country has many good things going for it.
The food is fresh and healthy, the air is clean and the water is sweet to drink straight off your roof.
It is a good place to feed your body, but in my case, not my soul.
My soul cries out for culture, for history and a sense of permanence, immutable perpetuity.
I need to feel like I am part of something much greater than here and now, something that visibly spans thousands of years, something that links me to a culture and civilisation that I can recognise and resonate to.
I encounter that when I walk the cobbled streets of any village in Europe and touch the sides of buildings that have been looked after by generations of families for hundreds of years.
When I taste their food, see their art and hear their music, I am connecting with a depth of culture that permeates right into my soul.
How can I stay away from that?
The obvious answer to that question is that I can’t.
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| Next time take me! Our little best friend, Izzy, really glad to have us back in her life. |
