Small Things

I place my palms together at heart centre and gently close my eyes. Back long, sitting tall. Stillness. It’s warm; my skin softens. I have been homesick all week long, but I can’t quite place the feeling. This has been my hometown for some time, how can I be lost when I am here? Perhaps…

Sand, surf, ocean swims (or not yet if you didn’t book far enough ahead). Soft rain, warm breezes. Cold rain, wet washing. Ice-cream. Bare feet. Late nights. Sunrises. Cotton shirts. Hair undone. Outdoor yoga. Freshly mown grass. Dandelions and pohutukawas. Iceberg lettuce. Beach towels over deck railings. Faded sameness. Memory making. Sunscreen. Sunburn. Blueberries with…

Song title streets. Cafes that know your order. Ponsonby pooches, Waiheke wineries. Small bookshops. Two harbours and city beaches. Eighty-plus yoga studios. The bridge. Slithery, invasive traffic. Road rage. New suburbs, old money. VillasBungalowsTerraces, no space. Green coned parks. All shades of humans. Chinese food. European cars. Stylised beards and shiny new faces. Middle-aged activists,…

Changing seasons. Warmth. Blossom and Tuis. Lighter mornings. New yoga pants. Almond milk lattes. Raw chocolate. Unexpected smiles. Hope. Risk-taking. Fresh sheets. Paying it forward quietly. Daisies. Late night conversations. Kitchen bench crow pose. Kindness. Always kindness. Books you never want to end. Kiwi idiosyncrasies. Laughing. Savansana head-rubs and toe-pulls. – Jane x [line] You…