A River Runs Through It

Robert Redford and Brad Pitt were in the Rocky Mountains in the early 1990’s, and now in 2014, we’re in the Tararua mountain range, Reikorangi valley with the Ngatiawa arm of the Waikanae River, to be more precise.

After the heavy rains at the end of April, we went for a short stroll up Ngatiawa Road (west) to see what that part of the valley holds for early autumn.

This arm of the Waikanae is joined lower down by other streams to eventually flow into the Tasman as the Waikanae River proper. The level of water rose relatively for a couple of days after the heavy showers, but has since subsided into its babbling brook nature once more. Here we are standing on the (single-lane) Kents Road traffic bridge.

(Above): Shane’s property borders along the left bank of the river and includes the bridge area. Here Shane’s Billy sports the latest style in goats-wear (in their favourite colour)….

 
(Above) … while Shane’s Milly walks in the udder… sorry, other, direction. By the way, does this outfit make my bum look big? Billy and Milly are names I use purely for ease of reference – not even sure whether Shane indulges in this naming-thing…

Ngatiawa Road is a “No Exit” country road (called a “Cul-de-sac” in some countries). On this dead-end arm of the road, we encountered this newly fallen tree – quite a large specimen, but causing no damage or harm to traffic or life and limb – just like nature intended in the days of Adam and Eve and their kids… and goats… if they had.

 
(Above): Compared to a couple of months ago, the verges and adjoining vegetation have very little in the way of floral displays. We spotted quite a few of these which resemble Chinkerichee flowers, but the plant structure is different. Maybe something like “may-bells” – maybe a reader can help? Anyway, pretty and clean.

 
All along the verge embankment next to the roadside streams, toadstools and mushrooms of various sizes and descriptions can be found…

Whilst I wasn’t too sure about this toadstool/mushroom argument, I did some reading up on the subject. I still haven’t changed my mind and can confirm: Don’t listen to old-wives-tales or family rules: What remains important about toadstools and mushrooms are the following facts:

• They are the same and no scientific distinction exists between them.
• They cannot be defined by shape, color, or appearance, since there is no standard differentiation between them.
• Mushrooms aren’t fungi with caps and stems while toadstools lack caps and stems.
• Fungi are not defined by level of toxicity: anything classed as either may be nontoxic, mildly toxic, hallucinogenic or extremely poisonous.
• People should never consume anything classed as toadstool or mushroom without having it first examined by a professional mushroom hunter.

(Above): Not only does a River Run Through It , but there are many little streams which run all over the shop. This one trickles road-side for hundreds of metres, until it takes a sharp right turn and heads for the river. If you stop to listen, besides the birds here and there, the gentle babbling of the shallow water over the small pebbles is all the breaks the silence of the clear fresh air…

(Above): Although Mayday was cloudless, the air was still quite crisp and a light jumper not out of place. Here, near the end of the road, the girls took time-out to sit in the warm sunshine and to soak up the sounds of the birds and the river in the distance, for a while before setting off back home.

(Above): To their left, Ngatiawa Road with the lush green kaleidoscope of vegetation overhead and all around – a voyage of discovery for a budding botanist, and (Below) rolling green mountains into the distance.

Hobbits, Habits and Rabbits

The moon is hanging on to its dominance over the sky with the morning star in attendance as the sun rallies for control over the tree tops. One might swear Shakespeare is lurking here at 7:00am and 7ºC this clear April morning at Chartwell.

One might also be forgiven for thinking so, if one was standing next to me at this moment (with gumboots against the frosty grass), because the surrounds are indeed so crisp, quiet and Shakespearean.

The trees are all dressed in Autumn uniforms, with a huge proportion of their leaves having been shed in preparation of the imminent June winter. Obviously the evergreens are the obstinate delinquents, who have no firm beliefs in these things.

(Above): One of my favourites – an intricate pattern of branches: quite possibly a painting artist’s dream?

(Above): I have indicated that I am not much of a knowledgeable gardener, let alone anything resembling an arborist, but this tree has undergone an amazing transformation in the past month or so. You do not need to be an expert in tree matters to be able to appreciate the changing beauty of nature.

(Above): Not far from Goat Hill, I stumble on this small clump of field mushrooms. I have also seen numerous colonies of larger brownish-fawn ones on other days.

 
(Above): I am not a knowledgeable mushroomist either, but the neighbours have told me to stay clear of those with white undersides, and that brown undersides are Ok. These have white undersides, so I will leave well alone – I am not really that fond of mushrooms… By the way, an expert in mushrooms is known as a mycologist, but I didn’t want to appear too Shakespearean so early in the morning…

(Above): This guy growing nearer the pine trees, is silvery. Drat – white is bad, brown is Ok – what about silver?

(Above): I finally reach the object of my stroll – this is my proposed Winnie The Poo retreat. Why I call it this will become obvious at a future date. On the southern side of the driveway we have a small copse, which, up to now has only been used by the dogs as a hunting ground. Hunting for what? Who knows? Maybe hobbits or rabbits, but they’ve caught neither so far.

 
(Above): My Hobbit Tree, with its interesting brown bark. I have cleared a narrow walking pathway which goes past the Hobbit Tree, so that he is always close by.

(Above): It is almost impossible to walk anywhere in the property without a dog being within a few yards. Here Sophie is investigating whether anything untoward may be lurking in the undergrowth. No rabbits here, she reports. I want to cover the black soil of the pathway with chip and bark to give a drier and cleaner underfoot experience.

(Above): I was thinking of converting this little path into a sitting / talking / thinking / reading / doing absolutely nothing retreat. It will disturb the minimum of plant life, is cool and totally secluded, protected from wind and rain. A bird feeder would probably be much appreciated here – there are a few cute little fantails which frequent the copse.

If anything develops out of this idea, you’ll surely be hearing about it here.