Yesterday I went to the river for dinner. And why not, it would make a perfect end to a beautiful day. It’s a stiff run from my home to the Hurunui and the sun was dying in the gorge by the time I reached the riverbed and slipped into the autumn waters to numb the ache in my old bones. Alison was already there with the black billy chugging in a nest of embers while my young daughter sat on the bank, gurgling back at the water in her secret language.
I stood naked by the fire while the sweat and river dried on my skin, and watched again the pink bleed from the evening sky as countless gulls drifted over us, following the silver ribbon into the west on sibilant wings. The men and women who would destroy all this, must necessarily have abandoned love.