Sunday, February 10, 2013

All good things...

Though I'm with Lucy, from Peanuts, who when told there have to be ups and downs in life, stamped her foot and bellowed, "Why can't there be just ups and ups?" I don't see why good things have to end. I could quite happily have stayed on on Waiheke and not come home at all. Lots of people do. Though that's because it's where their homes are, of course, lucky things...

So, no more wine and water, the rose and the turquoise. No more bobbing about in the warm, clear sea, or trotting along the sand picking up the shells that winked at me, or both having and taking the time to conduct a slow-motion experiment on the wet sand. Ever wondered how long you'd have to stand there with the ebbing waves sucking the sand from out under your feet before you were completely buried? I can tell you that it won't happen: the tide will leave you high and dry before you're up to your ankles. (You're welcome.)
No more early(ish) mornings walking to the end of the beach to where the path zigzags up the cliff, and ducking under the pohutukawa, the one with the swing that the little girls have so much fun on, all by themselves. No more stopping at the top, after the 16th zig - or is that zag - to admire the view back along Onetangi and the neat regularity of the lacy scallops made by the waves (the only reason I stop there, of course).
No more morning serenade from Max and his ukulele, walking past the Beach Front Cafe cheerfully singing his Waiheke song and strumming away as he follows his dog along the road while we eat creamed mushrooms and ciabatta or French toast and banana (with extra-fancy 'mapel' syrup).
No more of any of that. Just a slow chug across the harbour on the car ferry, back to the city and home and ordinary old life again. Sigh.

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