NEW ZEALAND

 

Something is coming, it could be a destructive storm, or welcoming rain, or a cloud protecting the ground from the hot sun again. Just be prepared as it is a waiting game.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

THANK YOU, NEW ZEALAND!

Oh, New Zealand! You own half of my heart!

On your shores, your shelter you generously offered us. Away from the danger of the virus, scything through our motherland. We have been drawn to your shores year after year.

Making new friends, bringing ours over, to share the beauty to be seen here. To enjoy food deliciously fresh, with a tang of lemons and a mix of herbs. Fruit trees laden with bountiful harvests, some from different lands.

To roam roads mainly clear, with beaches filled with more birds than humans. Fish a plenty tempting their catch for a hungry family meal. To birds not found elsewhere, one a flightless survivor from ancient times, rarely seen except at night.

Cattle and sheep roam free enjoying the nourishment of the land and care from the farmer's hand. Rivers change shape as they rage and dwindle across the land.

A country of contrasts, with dawns and sunsets to take your breath away. To a people united and rightly proud of this blessed land.

Thank you, Aotearoa, New Zealand, the Land of the Long White Cloud, for sheltering us here, where everyone has the freedom to meet, work, hug and roam.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

NEW ZEALAND MARKET

 

In the market, there was a sign which said,

‘Buys tools for the love of your life, he will love you forever.’

As I passed I commented,

‘Not if he is not a handyman and does not know one hammer or chisel from another.’

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

THE MIST

 

The mist hugs the river and valley floor, 

Till the strength of the sun vaporises it,

And it is seen no more!

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

THE LAND OF THE LONG WHITE CLOUD

 

The Land of the Long White Cloud and brilliant blue skies. A place that has taken half my heart.

Full of welcoming family-orientated people with their feet firmly attached to their roots.

A few disobedient sheep wander around, every country has them.

The awe at visual beauty wherever you may go, not all gentle and rolling.

Some show their birth struggles with rugged slashes, the odd shake and stone-throwing from time to time, a reminder it is still growing. 

Mountain tops some snow-capped others sun and lush greenery proudly showing.

Rivers some slow, others large and excitedly fast flowing.

Beaches copious and filled with, wave music, you and the birds.

The bright life and adventure are there for you to try in abundance.

I prefer the silence and gentle perambulation, the delicious food stops me from writing my words.

So I can replay my stories during my time in this blessed place, any other day.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

A SIGHT I NEVER WANTED SEE

 

The first sign was the grinding of heavy machinery, 

It's impossible to see! Till a scar on the land did appear alarming me.

They have been cutting down the forest tree by tree, providing us with an unasked-for far distant view.

Scaring away all the forest dwellers to find somewhere safe and new.

Eagles flying high ready to snatch a meal or two. From those unable to find instant sanctuary.

On seeing trunks piled high on lorry trailer backs, I hope when planks they become, they will provide homes for many.

With space left behind to plant more healthy trees, for the next generation of grateful forest dwellers.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Krystian Piątek on Unsplash

A NEIGHBOURLY AFFAIR

 

We awoke to a miserable wet misty day and a heart sink moment.

It is our resident's Street Party, food has been prepared and ready for the fun. Would it be clear, if not what would we do? 

Each year it provides a chance for us to meet old friends and make New Ones. We were very lucky this time, as the sun suddenly popped out and stayed. It was with delight we set off to the reserve, gathering at the top, as we filed down a rough track to the party spot.

Once there, we spread out erecting fold-up chairs, it is on a bit of a slope, but the safest places were found under the shade of a few trees. 

Names were exchanged, details of our lives and homes swapped, and wine and soft drinks were poured and shared.

Once the tables were put up, they gradually filled with delicious delights lovingly prepared by all. Salads, chicken, prawns, rice, potato and pasta dishes. Eggs and tomato with cucumber, plus lots of other tasty food. To go with a Barbecued lamb or two, carved and served hot. Later sweets appeared merengues, rhubarb crumble and many others. Wonderful!

To top it all, if you turned around you had a fantastic view of sea islands, country, river and wetlands stretching in all directions. 

You could not imagine a more spectacular Neighbourly affair, a huge success. Thank you, everyone, for all the effort made to make it a truly memorable occasion. Here’s to Next Year, or another excuse for a neighbourly affair.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

MAORI MEMORY STICK

 

In the local Market, a Maori stallholder approached me, holding out something in his hand, saying, 

‘This is a Maori memory stick. What does it remind you of?’

I said, ‘Lemons.’

He then said, ‘What is the memory of a smell you first remember?’

‘My Mother,’ he laughed, ‘you are the first to answer that today.’

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

NEW ZEALAND DAYLIGHT

 

Let the light of dawn arrive quickly,

Taking away the fears of the night,

Delivering you safely into

The bright daylight.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

WELCOME! YOU ARE BACK!

 

We arrived back to our New Zealand home for a 5-month stay.

Here we are known as ‘swallows’ because we come in summer and leave before winter.

During this time we live very different lives, with different friends and interests.

After a couple of days of non-stop sleep, I became aware of the wonderful bird song coming from all directions around the house and garden, very different from our English bird chorus.

My heart thrilled to the very distinctive calling of the Tui.

They are unusual birds, who are almost able to produce the sounds of a whole orchestra by themselves, lots of clicks, whistles and bangs.

They are wonderful to listen to and very handsome to look at in their dark blue, green and bronze plumage, with white ruffs around their necks and a blob of pure white feathers under their chins.

I went onto the deck as was my custom to call a greeting to them.

‘Hello Mr. Tui, hello Mr. Tui, Tui.’

Sometimes if I’m lucky they call back.

However this time, we were interrupted by a frantic repetitious crying, getting nearer and nearer.

I looked down and saw my neighbour’s silver-grey cat running up their path calling loudly as she ran.

She made a leap and clawed her way up the wooden fence, paused for a moment and jumped down.

The crying became louder and louder as she rushed up the stairs and threw herself at my feet, rubbing my legs still crying.

I was very touched and said ‘Oh Dumpling you have remembered our friendship after 18 months.

What an amazing cat, you are just so clever!’

I chatted to her patting and smoothing her coat gently.

We had been unable to come last year due to family reasons back in the UK.

Dumpling and I shared this very special greeting. Before she climbed up onto my lap and settled herself down.

After a while purring contentedly she fell asleep as she is now an old lady.

Looking down at her, I hoped we would be able to share many more companionable times during this visit.

Hopefully, as she is an old cat, help her to fight off younger contenders for her territory especially at night.

© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

HEARING COINCIDENCE

 

While I was amusing myself, browsing, through the returned book trolley at the volunteer-run library at Kerikeri in New Zealand. 

A gentleman said rather loudly, ‘I hope you’re not messing up my system!’

I replied ‘Hopefully not, as that would be a shame.’

Cupping his hand to his ear he said ‘Sorry I can’t hear you I’m deaf.’

At that moment a bookmark fluttered to the floor from the book I was holding. 

The gentleman said ‘You’ve dropped your bookmark!’

I replied ‘No it's not mine.’

‘You can keep it.’ He answered.

On picking it up and saying thank you, I had to giggle to myself, as the bookmark was advertising an Audiology service in the North Island.

© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

HORSE SENSE

HORSE SENSE

On a trip around the Bay of Islands, our guide told us a story about a big Clydesdale horse.

Once a week, weather permitting, since the lighthouse was built, on the end of Cape Brett, supply ships made their way to restock the lighthouse with supplies and to change the crews. 

It was an arduous task as everything had to be carried up the cliff face often in dangerous weather. Someone had the bright idea to lead a horse overland to do the hard work for them.

At first, it worked very well, till the crafty horse decided to hide in the bush every time the relief boat headed in for the lower jetty.

Why should he willingly work so hard, when he lived in comfort the rest of the time? He had a right old game evading capture.

In the end, the game had to stop as this was a serious business and an electronic hoist was put in place. 

What I would like to know now is, what happened to the horse? 

© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

WHO IS THAT?

 

WHO IS THAT?

Who is that rustling in the bushes,

Come out and let me see.

If you are gentle we could become good friends

If bad I will scramble up the nearest tree.

Oh, you are a very brave little Kiwi.

Where is your mum, you should not stroll far,

Stay alert, as there are possums, cats, and rats around.

They would snap you up with teeth, claws and a snarl.

I so want you to carry your genes into the future

As you have in this land up till now, just managed to survive.

Help is at hand with traps to catch those that are cruelly after you.

I now feel hopeful, you and your offspring are going to survive.

© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST

 

A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST

Patiently waiting in this modern age, for the appearance of a magical relic from the Victorian past. It´s arrival was announced, with a triumph shrilling hiss of escaping steam through it’s whistle and the grinding of metal on metal.

A train, a steam train, paintwork, pitch black and shining, brasses gleaming. The name Gabriel worn proudly on it´s side.

Brakes are applied to take a firm grip with shoes not designed to slip. Arriving on rails shiny and new, to show off the craftsmanship of men long gone. Now revitalized by crafts taught and handed on anew.

A triumph of engineering used in various forms of trains transporting people and essential materials used to spread civilizations around the world.

The one I am describing resides in KawaKawa New Zealand.

2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

ONE JUMP TOO HIGH

 

On pulling back the pool cover for the first time, on our return to New Zealand, a lone frog was visible in very low water.

Every so often he grabbed hold of a floating rope-like piece of a Norfolk pine tree, hooking his front leg over it, to have a rest.

I wondered how long he had been there. At the slightest movement, he shot down to the bottom and hid in some dark leaf debris.

Occasionally he left strange footprints in the algae at the bottom of the pool, which was quite artistic and first drew my attention to his presence.

Other times he just bobbed about with minimum movement, head above water, observing all that was going on.

His problem was that he could not leap high enough to leave the pool. So I decided to help and called out.

‘Please, Mr. Frog let me help you. I am not going to hurt you, but you won’t be able to jump out of the pool on your own, no matter how high you leap.’

First, a couple of wooden planks leaning down into the water were tried, but he had not heard of walking the plank.

‘Mr. Frog, will you please hop onto the plank, then I can lift you out.’

He just disappeared down to the bottom of the pond in terror.

Next, a big tree leaf was cast-off to act as a stepping stone but it failed to encourage him. He just bobbed up, looked at it and moved further away.

More drastic action was needed with the use of the pool net, and leaf strainer to rescue him.

Thankfully he was scooped up to safety in one go and I was able to catch a glimpse of how handsome he was.

His skin was marked in green, orange, brown, and black. We eyed each other respectfully for a moment or two.

Then slowly and carefully I removed him, away from the pool, to my neighbour’s fence, where there was a pond on the other side.

There I gently tipped him out. He leaped high into the air, showing off his agile dancing skills, before disappearing into the bushes.

Who knows, perhaps we might meet again one day, but please, not in the pool, as there may not be anyone there to rescue him.

This little story reminds all of us not to go to pools or rivers on our own. Also, all of us need to learn to swim.

© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Daniela Silvia Serban

SINGING UP A RAINBOW

 

A friend invited me to a Carol Concert on the edge of a river, at a place known as ‘The Landing’ at Kerikeri, New Zealand. We went along totally unprepared was the arrangement was for us to meet and sit with some friends and their young family. The next time, the word picnic is mentioned, the car will be full of comfort goodies, the two main items being folding chairs.

It was a most wonderful experience, in spite of having to make an ungainly descent onto the blanket, assisted by several caring helping hands easing me earthwards. There were reassuring offers of help, to repeat the process of rising again when we wished to leave. I turned my feet to face the river, to hopefully promote health and safety, and keep tripping accidents to a minimum.

Once settled, I glanced around. It was a beautiful sunny evening; whole families sat together on the grass facing the stage, erected at one end of the ground. Quite a few people brought chairs, picnic baskets, and sun umbrellas. Everyone in the audience was prepared with song sheets to sing their hearts out when the time came. There was a choir, with soloists, musicians, a compare, and a conductor, all bustling about preparing their music and tuning up. What a din!

While we sat waiting for the concert to begin, I watched the activities going on around us. Several children ran about waving balloons and before long, some escaped and were blown into the river. Off they bobbed on their journey following the air thermals and the water currents. Screaming children ran alongside hoping to grasp them again if they happened to reach a bank.

A beautiful kingfisher sat on a branch, searching intently for a supper snack in the water below him, oblivious to the commotion in his otherwise tranquil surrounds. Ducks swam up and down begging for bread, and diving bottoms up for underwater goodies. There was quite a bit of duck procreation going on; no embarrassment there. One very ardent male nearly drowned his mate in the process.

Well-behaved trim seagulls did an occasional food-seeking flypast. However, with the ducks in possession of the riverbank, the gulls had to wait till the humans had gone, to do their rewarding work of clearing up any leftover food. Unless they were very cheeky, chaps who snatched food out of the hands of unwary eaters.

Just before the performance, a large striped, canary yellow and blue sun umbrella, was lifted by the wind and rolled along the ground. It was chased by several people, desperately trying to capture it before it escaped. It evaded capture and landed upside down in the river. There it provided great hilarity as it sailed majestically along, every now and then disappearing under the water, handle and all. Slowly, the umbrella appeared again from the depths, to repeat its performance at times during quite moving moments, in the carol singing.

The carols were a bit different from the familiar English ones, which was quite refreshing. It delighted me to hear Maori carols sung, and I followed the wording very carefully. The choir sang with gusto and the young soloists gave touching performances much applauded by one and all, especially loudly by their listening families.

The only discordant note was my almost numb bottom and fidgety legs. Just as I was about to give in, and ask for help to arise, a spit of rain fell from a lonely grey cloud. It stopped as soon as it began and suddenly a wonderful thing happened. 

A magnificent rainbow appeared, hanging over the river with its beautiful colours sharply defined. I for one will not forget that enchanting evening. I hope to be back next year God willing, fully prepared for a comfortable seat and some companionable singing with friends and nature.

© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: The Landing NZ

THE FLUTE FARM

 

Friends invited us to an Opera Picnic, the first in the far north of New Zealand.

Our drought was broken a couple of days ago. We had a welcome burst of heavy rain followed by some light tantalising showers, a few of which landed on the morning of the event. With frequent glances skywards, our pleas turned to no rain please this evening.

We arrived at a beautiful large garden called The Flute Farm, the wife of the owner is a flute player, hence the interesting name.

We made our way laden with our picnic delights to a gazebo, joining others similarly engaged. Introductions were exchanged, new friendships made, as we settled down amongst friends to eat our picnic, tastily chosen and prepared by our hostess Marie.

We had an extra guest a cat, who attached itself to us using it’s nose to good effect, establishing the fact we had something tasty and might be a soft touch. It was correct on both counts.

We settled back to enjoy the feast and the company, keeping a wary glance skywards as the occasional black cloud lumbered it’s way overhead. As the feast ended the cat left for where it’s forever home was, well-fed and patted.

We sat back to enjoy the evening of Opera. It was wonderful, we were not disappointed at all. There was a variety of music to suit all listeners. The singers never lost us for a moment and at the end encouraged us to join in. Something several of us was longing to do, so ended a grand evening, to be repeated next year I was delighted to hear. Even the weather answered our request and stayed away, just hope it comes back tomorrow as we do need more rain.

Home to bed and moments before sleep, to relive some of the music, before sleep claimed me. Thank you for a wonderfully magical evening, everyone.

© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: The Flute Farm

BAY OF ISLANDS

 

Just to report yesterday was a perfect day, bobbing about in the Bay of Islands NZ. Sea conditions were perfect, dolphins put on a short display for us. Fish shoals were easy to see, swimming past the no fishing notices, in clear water at the edge of the island property.

We met some lovely people, I acted as a minder to a baby buggy and a backpack for a young family. They set off with baby following H, on a very steep muscle-wrenching start of a walk. (classed as an easy one.) Thankfully I sat myself down on a fixed table and bench, under the shade of the branches of a tree, to read a book and wait for the hero's return.

Once back and having married everyone up to the right belongings. H and I strolled along to lunch, it was very nice, after which we settled down on some large bean bags, to while away the time till our ferry's return.

Once the Ferry was spotted, we started to pack our bits and bobs. The fun started, H struggled to get up. I pushed him thumping the bean bag to no avail. No one paid us any attention, despite the hilarity.

After a mighty fight H bobbed up like a cork out of a bottle.

I never for one moment thought I would have much difficulty, with H to pull me up onto my feet. Wrong, every method was tried, to no avail.

Final roll over onto my front and up onto my knees, which have long given up extra weight-bearing. I said to H, I think we had better get the next ferry. As I crawled like a six-month baby, giggling my head off towards a firm table and bench which I grabbed. H pulled and somehow or other, we were both safely upright.

Just in time with dignity restored, to amble along a long jetty to the Ferry. Admiring some seagulls playing patta patta on the sand inviting a curious worm up to be their tea time snack. A beautiful calm trip home, and early bed.

© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: Pixabay License

MAUDE ISLAND

                                       

Maude Island, in Queen Charlotte Sound, South Island New Zealand is the home of a very ancient frog. It has no eyes or ears and has lived there for millions of years undisturbed.

The Island's more recent claim to fame was when a war-weary 1850-dated gun was cemented there, to be the sole defence of the sound from the expected Japanese invasion. It was fired twice while practising. One shell fell into the sea as intended and one killed two sheep. 

They were the only victims, of hours of defensive boring duty, for many a serviceman, for the duration of the war. Wish more tours of duty in wartime were like that.

© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay license