Two Seasons One Day

Monday December 29th. Look up at the clock on the wall – 6:00pm. I have just made it indoors semi-drenched, after parking the lawn mower in the shed and clearing some tools. The thunder is typically Witwatersrand, Johannesburg on the African highland, not the Tararua Mountains of North Island, NZ. I speak under correction, but I would guess that this is only the third time in a year that I’ve heard thunder.

I’ve been preparing the lawn for the New Year’s event, which we hope will become a family institution here. As a start for the dozen and a half guests, we are offering backyard cricket and a petanque court. Both sports are fairly popular in New Zealand. Tyler has done the hard work of carting the cuttings down to the composting patch under the pines.

(Above) The Cricket wicket still needs another cut, but the strip has been defined with some depressions earmarked for possible filling with soil.

(Above): Petanque is played near Waikanae on a fine grit court. We don’t quite have that sort of finances available, but have a close-cut firm grass surface.

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Turn back the clock a bit. Two hours. Four Ten pm. I guess the temperature felt like 25 degrees, and I was cooling off my warm Kapiti Island knees after a spell of mowing in the veggie patch. Yes, there’s grass to be mowed, no veggies to tend as yet. Except the pea, bean and tomato seedlings. I’m cooling off on the outdoor lounger, newly bought last November for this very sort of occasion. The dogs are strolling around me, with a few friendly licks. I reflect on the tranquillity of the scene and the variety of birdsong, most of which I cannot positively identify as yet.

(Above): Sophie, with her black heat-absorbent coat, doesn’t seem uncomfortable in the direct heat. We have a large flash of roses on the garden border immediately behind the deck.

(Above): Lying on my back on the lounger, I can see six distinct trees etched against the inviting blue sky.

(Above): Looking down the “runway” towards the new petanque court, even more different trees line the lawn bathed in bright sunshine.

(Above): Looking directly upwards, I am covered by the “possum tree” in full bloom. The wind chime plays a pleasant tune which is difficult to hum…

If it wasn’t for the ageing process, the decline in strengths and abilities, retirement could be a fantastic phase of life, one might imagine?