Wednesday, August 11, 2010

A Bit of Writing

Today is one of those days, those late summer days, where it really couldn't get any more summerier if it tried. We're right on that cusp - where the sun can't beat much stronger, and the grass is so parched and brown it couldn't crunch underfoot any more then it already does.
It's that time where the weather feels almost monotonous. It's more of the same, every single day. I can't remember if we have days like this in New Zealand. I'm finding it hard to remember New Zealand summers at all. This is my third summer in two years, and none have been New Zealand ones.

The baby deer are losing their spots now. It's as if the sun is fading their little red coats into a weathered grey, and taking their spots with it. These days the little babies, who are no so little any more, lie camouflaged in the dusty grass. I can't recall when they stopped being sweet wee babies - one day they were suckling from their mamas at every available moment, the next, they were not.
Their arrival in the spring time came when everything was so promising, and every sight to be seen around was a palette of rich citrus and apple greens.  Those babies bounced and played with one another, practicing their galloping and getting used to their gangly legs. They were curious and fearless and cheeky.

The door to our trailer is creaking in the breeze. It swings slowly back and forth on it's hinges. No one, and no thing is in a hurry round here. Even the wind chimes clang just enough to pepper the air with sound, in a half-hearted, lazy, summers day way.

There are no cicadas here. Only bees, hornets and hummingbirds to provide much needed background drone. If we sit outside in the mornings long enough, patient and still, the hummingbirds will hover around us checking for flowers. Without moving an inch so as not to scare them off, I crane my eyes in their sockets to watch their beautiful azure coloured bodies and furiously beating wings, hover and dart, hover and dart. But as the flowers are now succumbing to the scorching sun, the hummingbirds are disappearing too. We are coming to the end...


Post a Comment