Well Seasoned

When I first laid eyes on New Zealand in June of 1990 it was winter. I was so struck by the visual differences between this place and where I’d lived my entire life in Southern California. Mold formed in windows. Chilled air came in through open windows to air out houses even on cold days. Exotic plants and trees grew where I least expected them to be, mixed in with more traditional northern hemisphere varieties that I knew. But the biggest change for me was when I actually lived with four distinct seasons. In my imagination before I moved it seemed so romantic to leave my homeland for a daring new adventure in a faraway land. So I minimalized the differences I’d encounter, without realizing the impact this decision to pick up stakes in my homeland would have on my whole being. 

I have learned to love these differences and when I’m in America visiting my dearest relatives I sometimes yearn to be back here where my real life is. But likewise being stuck here for almost the last three years has been very trying for my family here and there. One thing though that I hadn’t anticipated were the hardships of living without central heating. We rely on the skill and effort of my old mate to keep the home fires going after chopping all the wood from the plentiful supply here on this property. That is something that must take place in order for us to feel some sort of warmth inside during at least half of every year. So even though I used to live with more modern comforts, even in New Zealand when we had much larger and well-appointed houses, I feel a sense of pride that I’ve managed in a most unusual way to get through many harsh conditions without completely losing my marbles. That doesn’t mean that my clumsy and inefficient patterns of coping with seemingly endless issues of wind and rain and flooding and drought have been all that effective, but so far they’ve worked for me. 

The payoff has been intense joy when winter turns into a vibrant Spring…..and everywhere I look  I see new life emerging through the bleakest canvas. The drama of the changing of the seasons here is something I never felt before in and around Los Angeles to this degree. This is epic emotionally and visually for me, a transplanted Yankee in a sometimes, unyielding paradise.