Car Free Day on the Drive got lucky with the weather yesterday, thank goodness, and the crowds came out to play. The ever-loving and I, still walking wounded, couldn’t make it much above Napier but we had a fine time anyway.
The No Tower table seemed to be full all day, and a lot of good conversations took place there. Most people who stopped by were highly impressed by the fact that this was not a negative campaign but one that had serious alternative plans in mind. This is community activism as it should be handled. Well done to the large number of volunteers that made it all work.
We have not, as yet, had a meal at the Sula but we did try the food they had out on the street — excellent chicken tikka, samosas and pakoras; eaten as they should be while sitting on the kerb.
It was, as usual, a far more relaxed and populist affair than Italian Day but, like many others, I now think it would be best if it was pushed further into July, more than just a week after the other.
The bus ride finished a mile from the shore
leaving a trek through the muddy clay
of rain-spattered early spring,
the swarming midges of late July,
or the leafy carpet of middle fall,
to the beach at the end of the world.
Sitting on a sea-driven log,
a carcass of the far northern woods,
my lover and I cleared our throats with lemonade,
quietly removed the stings of another week,
and populated our thoughts with waves of dreams
far removed from the drab of every day.