Spring
Spring in Wellington arrives hesitantly, unsure it prefers the cold winds and horizontal rains of winter or the hot, muggy days of summer. You throw open your windows, let the cool air rush in and blast away the physical and metaphorical dust lingering from the hibernation months, and declare that spring has arrived. The next day you’re back under a blanket watching Finding Nemo with a steaming mug of tea and some hobnobs and the heat pump back on. Oh, Wellington! At least it’s a good excuse to huddle inside and do nothing.
Last Saturday we were graced with such a day, so in the spirit of my new creative endeavours, I grabbed my camera and sauntered off for a walk. Perhaps emboldened by the possibility of the new season, I decided to leave my phone at home and see where my legs would take me. After taking about 45 minutes to walk 100 metres down the road due to stopping to take a photo of each beautiful flower, I got into Mount Victoria, the long strip of bush that trails down into the south coast.
The air that day buzzed with an air of excitement and (of course) bees. The pollen tickled my nostrils and hung heavy and fragrant in the air. Dogs and their owners trotted along the street to the rhythm of nature. Flowers cautiously peeked out from half-open buds, while others blossomed and bloomed in all their glory. All around, spring was signalling new life, growth and endless opportunity. Making my way along the spine of Mount Victoria, I passed children giddy with the excitement of open space and bright colours. The smell of pine drifted through the air as I climbed a steep hill, pausing to photograph another set of flowers, in no rush to get anywhere important.
I recently decided to break up with my phone. Not cut it out for good, but use it as a tool when I want to, rather than be used and possessed by it. Not taking it with me was actually pretty freeing. There were many things I thought I desperately that-very-moment needed to stop and Google but, without my phone, I was forced to just focus back on my own footsteps and the harmonious birdsong all around. All was going well until I decided to cut down out of the track into the suburbs and make my way back home that way. I thought it would be fun, but I quickly realised I had no idea where I was and was not sure where the closest suburb centre would be. Without my phone, I had to employ my detective skills and I decided to follow the cars, assuming they would be heading to the shops or cafes on the weekend. It worked – turns out our brains really can think for themselves!
Although Wellington will probably be making up its mind about spring until it eventually turns to summer, I am energised by this new season. Maybe it’s just me, but it seems that we collectively have some kind of season amnesia. Every time a new season comes around it’s like you discover all over again how glorious it is to walk down the street in a dress sipping an iced coffee, doing barbecues with friends until late in the evening, going for a casual afternoon dip in the sea. Although we know in theory these things are great, the joy lies in re-discovering these delights each year and savouring them before the light begins again to fade from the sky and usher in the cooler months.
