Sea and Light.

Pic: One from Piha actually. Look a bit pissed off, but let's just say it's moody and magnificent shall we?

Monday Nov 21^st

A healing weekend! Drove up North to Lisa and John’s on Friday after doing a Bikram Yoga class, and as I drove I felt all the concrete fall away, the clouds of Auckland cleared. I’d sweated like a bitch in the Birkram, and this time I had an anorexic to my left; she was tall with every bit of spine pushing up through her back. She struggled through the class and I was amazed she could stand. That’s a hard disease alright, anorexia.

On impulse I'd bought The Check's album 'Deadly Summer Sway'. I do like about five of the tracks, it's a good pop album with a lot of 70's sounding rock influence. I think my favourite (apart from 'Ready to Die') would be 'Spiders'. There's one song that really irritates me (Jet Aeroplane), but I'm sure plenty of the kids will like it. These lads might be 'on the drugs', but whatever the case, it was good company for the drive.

It’s so quiet and restful at Lisa and John’s. Surrounded by farm and bush with a view stretching green and to the far off sea, it’s a small place with a big deck. Lisa greets me with her warm hug, wide smile, her knowing green eyes. Within a day I feel like I’ve been love-drugged. We do little on Saturday. It’s enough to read on the deck and look out at the rolling hills and distant ocean. I’m fed as if I’m royalty, and even when I lose my temper during a chat about politics, Lisa doesn’t bat an eyelid.

She and John are voting National and I just about shat myself. They’re not wealthy, and their reasons for voting for National seem ludicrous to me, but I’ve always claimed to be uninterested in Politics so my rather extreme reaction surprised even me. Had to calm down and get a grip. Yes, good people sometimes make mystifying choices. I can understand some millionaire arsehole voting for National, but my hard-working and modest earning friends just don’t seem like the kind of people who would benefit from Corpse Keys and the death rattle band. Never mind, love is stronger than politics. Oh, and I don’t mean to imply that all millionaires are arseholes either. One day when I have way too much money I assure you I won't have transformed into a puckered up hole of a human being.

Let’s get back to the deck. It was perfect for doing Sun Salutations in the morning, listening to the birds gossiping, Phero the big black Rottweiler observing my Asanas.

On Sunday we went to Matapouri. Jealous much? You should be. It was truly idyllic.

Check out what the online Maori dictionary gives as the meaning of

Matapouri (pictured):

(Stative) be gloomy, sad, melancholy.

E kore au e mohio ki nga whakaaro o etahi atu tangata i tenei

ra, i tenei ra, it rotot i nga mea kua koreotia nei; ko au ia,

taimaha rukiruki au, te taea te kauphehi aku

whakaaromatapōuri (TKM.MM 13/3/1862:30).I do not know what other people think of these daily experiences which have been discussed, but I found them extremely depressing and I was not able to suppress my gloomy thoughts.

So we soaked up the healing energy of this amazing place, no gloom loomed, no melancholy dared descend on the sunlit afternoon. Picture stolen from some other site, I forgot to take my camera.

Salmon for dinner with lots of veges, a huge pile of buttery mashed potato, a little wine and soothing company. I have to remember to get up and do things or Lisa and John do it all. John gets up really early to drive trucks so they're used to going to bed early. John stands out on the deck with his rollies, strokes the dog, teases Lisa, gives me a bit of shit now and then. I give it back. It's that sort of blokey thing. I'm not much of a bloke, but now and then I give it a go.

Today I left the house at the same time as Lisa, so it meant there was time to stop at Uretiti.

Until earlier this year, I had no idea that Uretiti was a nudey beach. My mum and I went for a walk along it when we last visited Lisa together, and were a bit surprised to find all these naked people. Mum was a bit freaked out at first, but we enjoyed admiring a particularly lovely looking man as he walked down to the water's edge as we were leaving. Imagine a sexier, healthier, browner, taller version of Russel Brand.

I was there by 9.30am this morning, walking along the track next to the D.O.C campground.

I hear a cute chittering sound. Knowing it can't be a miniature monkey in the gorse, I am nonetheless curious and chitter back. I get a reply. Encouraged, I step towards the gorse and have a chittery chat with my new invisible friend. Then I see her. Sitting bold and plump on a large portion of felled pine, is a brown Quail. Quaily!

Damnit, I wish I had my camera. She, (or he, I'm no expert) continues our conversation a little longer, her adorable little quiff quivering in the slight breeze. Gorgeous!

I continue to walk and reach the soft white sand. It's more golden than pure white, finer than sugar.

I observe the detritus and admire a couple of decomposing sea birds. One is particularly interesting, the sand covers different parts of the body, feathers ruffle in the wind, head thrown back in what appears to be ecstasy. The world is such a fertile graveyard, the bones of birds, beasts and men beneath our feet.

Live men, just two, dig for shell fish in an endless wide ocean. The green blue is drinking and reflecting the tinfoil bright sunlight, the waves soothe with repetitive rush. My geography sucks. I'm looking out at what may be the Poor Knights, I don't know for sure.

A lady bug lands on my white scarf. I transfer her to my finger and whisper

lady bug, lady bug, fly away home

Her tiny red back sort of unclips to reveal winsy widdle wings, active suddenly, she is gone in the warm breeze.

I take off my scarf, my visor, and my clothes. I leave on my silver ring and my sunglasses and walk towards the sea. Lady bug, lady bug, fly away home. The water is so cold, clean, and perfect.

When I walk back up the beach, a man with his dog is walking past. I'm not embarrassed.

I reach for my towel and stop to look out at the ocean. The water is shining on my skin, I feel truly renewed. I cannot believe I'm working this afternoon. The Dog Walker stops and calls down the beach for his dog.

When I get ready to leave the Dog Walker is going past me just as I've finished dressing and am about to leave. It's funny; now that I have clothes on he stops and stares at me. He could be anywhere from 35 to 45, it's hard to tell. I think he'll be too embarrassed to keep staring for much longer, but he isn't. I can feel his thirst across the sand. I'm not offended or anything. I'm part of the view.

I leave reluctantly and get back on the road. Stopped counting road kill once I reached the Brynderwyns. For the first time in my life I have a coffee at Top of the Dome cafe. It's pretty bad, but not the worst I've ever had. My jaw tightens as I get closer to Auckland, and clouds close over in the sky.

I'm thinking of what to do when my contract ends next week. I've saved enough to live on for a wee while, but it might be fun to do something temporary, like WOOFING. Accidentally get fit. I also want to go for a few decent bike rides. Missions.

I suppose I could write a book. There's something. God knows there's always enough to write about, it's the discipline that I struggle with. Well good night, sleep tight. I feel the sun in me still, my face is full of sea and light.