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This is a test to see if I can post from emails. I am sorry, very sorry for neglecting you, mr Blog

There's a crack in everything - Part 2

Sam Hunt referred to the joys of living on that edgy margin between land and water that we love so well. Ever since i saw the sun shining through clouds over a stormy Tasman sea north of Rapahoe and believing that was God in heaven shining his light, I have been fascinated with those shafts of light.

My recent re acquaintance with Leonard Cohen linked back to those early experiences where sun strikes sea - There is a crack in everything, ... that's where the light gets in

The Sun is shining right up my Back Passage

So said Aunt Daisy once upon a time to much mirth about the double entendre, intended or not?

But i always celebrate when the morning sun shines in through the south window, spring has well and truly sprung!

The language of Tradesmen

Well I am learning the meaning of "soon" and "sometime next week" when it comes to tradesmen. Frustratingly so in the case of my heat pump, which had some wires chewed by a mouse, then fried to a crisp by the service guy who forgot to turn the power off, who then returned with a series of misdiagnosed fixes and no timeframe provided for the next visit. Long story short, he took 6 visits and 8 weeks to fix the thing... in the middle of winter. If he had bothered opening the cover on the first visit and turning off the power it would have been fixed in minutes.

Better news with the new bedroom - Trevor started on it this week. It will take a couple of weeks for the windows to be built, but I can wait that long. I continue my quest for a shed to put the bike and tools in.

The Westering Skies

The norwesters are here, with their energy and light, inspiring in the morning, muscular in the evening.

From same day recently. Sunrise from the back door, looking past the clothesline to the path to the beach, Zac never obeys the speed limit.



Afternoon looking out at the city from the top of the sand hill.

"Anthem"

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.

I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring ...

You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.

Midwinter Sun

Yesterday was the first fine day since about 23 June. The midwinter sun almost felt too hot, its brightness surreal after the days of grey. I celebrated this luminous day with a midwinter surf, nice wee swell, dolphins on the beach further down by the pier and the snow laden Southern Alps looming huge over the city as i walked back over those ever present Sandhills.