photo: fern in the making, Split Apple Rock, the repetition of things
we were apologising for this and that
for one thing or another
« you can never apologise too much »
a mantra like any other
we were apologising for this and that
without always knowing why
« you can never apologise too much »
we told ourselves, a mantra like any other
It must have been for that
that we apologised like that.
photo: Matai River, Nelson, these ducklings are growing fast
… and one day there would be no more escort
and we were so eager to get there
to be free, to float
on the water, all year round but then…
there would be a great empty space
and like… too much freedom
*put online in 2025, edited in 2026
Photo: the small details have been grabbing my attention lately.
It couldn’t last forever.
that, we knew very well
but we would enjoy it
as long as we could
Walking in the daylight
watching and finally seeing, seeing!
Of course, bad days would come
but today we were living in
the thrills of nature,
its quiet march towards a long sleep
but before it would happen
It would make the leaves fall,
one by one, or in heaps
so as to let the light seep in
on the days of severe cold.
photo: autumn in Nelson
the leaves were falling
from the trees and rustling
under the footsteps of passersby
they walked slowly and
tenderness in the interlacing
of their carefree arms
The cabbage trees stand in line like little soldiers, they are so unique, as if each one was developing a singular personality, Tata beach
…like that day when a familiar face appeared on someone else’s face. Ghost? Hallucination? Premonition? The stories align, integrate into the chaotic flow of time passing in gusts of wind, in sandstorms, or slowly like a young seagull that has not yet learned to cross the street.
