photo: path leading to Wharariki beach, dominated by the winds, one really feels  the West Coast. Trees have no other choice but to bend to the demands of the weather (one has to imagine the restless wind imposing its will on the trees).

we often repeated our eternal waltzes, which were only wind, but we didn’t know it. And we began to swirl again in the grass, all the breathing we had left in the heat of the day.