Ode to Home

I have, for as long as I can remember, felt closely connected to the land surrounding the Banks Peninsula in Aotearoa New Zealand. Even living in the middle of a continent a whole ocean away, I always knew that I would come back here. Back home.

I love the way the evening sun lies golden on the hills,
The morning gleaming of the mountains looming distantly across the plains.

I love the beaches—all the beaches!—sand and rock and crashing waves;
The peaceful sparkle of the water under the sun.

I love the explosive springtime blossoms and the crunch of autumn leaves,
The summer grasses, gold and shining, and their luscious winter green.

I love the vistas, all unfolded out across the horizon,
I love the clouds: distinct, dramatic.

I love the tui calls, the fluttered chirps of pīwakawaka dancing,
The heavy beat of kererū wings as they launch themselves from too-tiny twigs.

I love my Ōtautahi, Aotearoa, my home;
I love each fresh breath of life.

But most of all I love the evening sun across the hills.