Tairua.

We met Tu’ this morning, on the beach, surrounded by yellow freesias.

We picked some of the vivid blooms and put them in an old milk bottle from the batch.


We were lured up the mountain by the promise of the unknown and were caught by the view.

The sea to the south looked solid and dark, islands lay flat and fixed.

To the north the the air danced with light and the land shivered and bulged and glared.


We went back to the foot of Paku and watched the sun set and the tides drain.