Wednesday, February 16, 2011

127 Hours, 300 Words or Less

Drive. Ocean. Bright water. Sun. Te Urewera National Park. Swim, swim, swim. Clear lakes. Perfect water. Black swans nabbing pond grass like gloved-hands weeding. Deafening cicadas. Hike. Look-out. Camp.

Caves. Disorientation. Dead air. Sun-dappled tunnels. Big rocks. Mazes. Hot. Humid. Bunches of beeches. Hanging moss. Gnarled trunks. Swim. Otter around. Drive. Serenades to Gina. Drive. East coast. Camp.

East Cape. Tea in the dark. Sunrise. First in the world to see the new day from here. Big breaking waves. Drive. Hot. Sing to Gina. Talk to self in various accents. Repeat. Wrong turn. Explicative. Traffic. Man with only three rotten teeth left. Camp failure. Hot. Drive. Crowded vacation beach. Explicative. Drive more, sweat more. Waihi gold town. Historic hotel. Cheap room. Cold shower. Cold drink. Peeling wallpaper. Stained carpet. Musty smell. Single bed. Happy.

Coromandel, sweet Coromandel. Road stands. Fresh plums, nectarines, mandarins, lemons. Apples crisp and juicy. The best you will ever taste. Fresh kumara, zucchini, peppers. Misshapen carrots. Small round onions. Ripe avocados. Giddy-up. Curvy roads. 90s radio time warp. Curvy roads. Hot. funny-legged pukeko birds. The shire. Curvy roads. Pohutukawa trees. Oh my God, pohutukawa trees. Fletcher's Bay. Beach camp. Dinner with duck friends. Ocean breeze. Rising moon. Maxfield Parrish clouds. Good, good, good.

Coastal hike. Pasture. Ireland. Cows on the beach. Native forest. Manuka trees that smell like nutmeg. Yes. Green tree gecko bright as a new leaf. Nikau palms. Misty moors. Wind in hair. Sea cliffs. Gulls. Yes. Gray. Black sooty fungus smelling of sweet old roses. Rain. Read. Write. Rain. Read. Green curry vegetables. Yes.

Today. Coffee. Nectarines. Fresh eggs. Beach walk. Tree climb. Curvy roads. Little town. Internet. Kombucha. Hi.

No arms were severed in the writing of this post.

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