Sogginess in the hollows, glistening in the early morning sunlight! Lumpy hills, deeply shadowed in the early morning sunlight. Paddocks inhabited by sheep, horses and some by cows.
Houses clinging to hillsides, windows reflecting the brightness of the day. Puddles of water not yet drained on the gravel road along the rail track remind us of the weather, now departed.
That Tasman, blue and calm again, a hint of haze on the horizon and jagged rocks, beaten thus, take a peek at the morning calm above it’s surface.
A rail sign says, “Slow 40”, wish it would “40” all the way to town on this glorious morning.
The darkness of a tunnel, interrupts the scene, heightens the expectation of the emergence.
A modern white fence climbs its way up a mountain side, disappearing over the brow in a attempt to demarcate it’s builders presence. On the other side a rickety twig and wire keep-me-in stops natures lawn mowers from wandering onto the tracks.
Waders go about their business in the wetlands on the outskirts of Plimmerton, while gulls stand idly around on the beach, the wavelets of the ocean gently caressing their delicate, stick-like legs.
The glassy surface of the Porirua Bay shimmers the contrasting images of the marina in the foreground and the low cost houses about the hills.
“Slow 35”, but we bustle along through factories and graffiti, drawn to the bustle of the city, sucked along, powerless. Nothing now but urban Wellington, where open spaces are cold parking lots, where foot bridges over the tracks stand rusty legged and sub-station walls sport the local youths colourful rants.
The darkness of a tunnel provides the viewer a moments respite, a moments reflection. An acceptance of what is.
Wellington harbour comes into view, the city looks calm and inviting and we continue on toward our days due.
Somehow, listening to Eva Cassidy singing “Somewhere over the Rainbow” is apt and I remind myself of that which I reflected on in the darkness of the tunnel:
In eight hours time I have the pleasure of writing this observation; in reverse.
How fortunate am I!