We head over the bridge to where Mauao stands, though my destination that day was along the road; further on, another mountain by name, not stature, and very much smaller. Hopukiore Reserve (Mt Drury), like Mauao, has many stories to share, with a few old, large pohutukawa trees standing proudly and offering a scenic backdrop I appreciated during my walk.
Like many locals, I miss a decent climb, as we still have no access to Mauao; we either have to drive further over to Papamoa Hills, go out of town, or do a few climbs on a much smaller dirt mound. To be precise, some of us use what is available, and that means I needed to go up Mt Drury 8 times. That day, I did it twice, with a 10km walk along the beach and esplanade. Just enough to deserve a sit down and a coffee before heading home. I get to relax for a couple of hours because a couple of lads come over and spend time visiting Les. Those hours are treasured.
Across the road from Hopukiore Reserve (Mt Drury) is, of course, the beach and the walk along the esplanade is lovely, with the sounds of the sea quietly massaging and hugging my brain; the waves come in gently to shore, and there were people in small groups now and again who would pass alongside me as we all strolled along the beach.
It was quieter than normal, and I appreciated the lack of humans, as I had the beach to myself and my thoughts. Luckily, I love my own company, and some good conversations are had most days, who would’ve thought. Lately I’ve found solitude calming, even restorative and definitely helpful in keeping my head above water and fine-tuning my patience, dreaming of our shared travels and the possibilities in my future. Did you know waves can dull the urge to scream at the blardy universe?
As always, it’s liberating to feel the sea breeze caress my cheeks; I can nearly smell the summer warmth, though the unpredictable weather tells me that Spring is still clutching the skirt tails of winter.
Then, nearing the end of my walk, I noticed that there were enough shells on the beach to decorate a sandcastle, I thought, as I kept going off the sand to the boardwalk. It was just so good to be out and about, observing life with no agenda other than absorbing nature and just being there with no questions to answer no wondering looks from well intentioned lovelies.
Which brings me to a word that most times I find irritating and one I find I use way too often. It must be the most undescriptive word in the English dictionary. So I’ll leave you this week with the best definition of fine I have read so far and one that made me smile;
Fucking
Irritated
Not
Explaining
