MARCH SHOWERS, APRIL FLOWERS

Spring has come and the intense rains of March followed by some very warm days (and one quite hot day) of early April weather shock sprouted the garden.  Last year's daffodils and hyacinth were out early.  I also planted some pansies and ranunculus to cope with the usual bouts of cold we still get here in the early part of the month, and I thought for a while it was an unnecessary step since we had so much sun and heat this month.  A single night of frost last week, however, killed all the non-hardy plants my neighbor put out too early.  Nature is a cruel mistress.

SPT DAY 33 & 34: TE ANAU AND MILFORD SOUND

The last part of our time in New Zealand was in the southern mountains and fjordlands, said to be the most spectacular part of the South Island.  It, like the rest of the country, delivered.

The drive from Wanaka to Te Anau was half dry alpine desolation and half pastoral farmland.  The mountains above outside the town of Queenstown are called the Remarkables.

The view down toward Queenstown.

Te Anau is situated on a lake of the same name.  It is the largest body of freshwater in all of Australasia, according to the boat captain who took us out on the lake and to the local glow worm dell.  We hiked inside a twisted limestone cave and took a handpulled boat into the darkness to observe the little glowing worms.

The lake is totally pure and drinkable.  It is surrounded by pristine primeval forests on almost all sides.

The town itself has some interesting architecture.  This little number above was right in our path when walking into town, and we passed it half a dozen times.  Each time I obsessed a new horrifying detail, and the end of our time in Te Anau, I think I actually began to enjoy appreciating what an abomonation it was.  Something like a 1980's McDonald's morphed into a 4,000 square foot family home.

One thing I have to give the hideous house, and the entire town, was their gorgeous flowers.  This Dahlia put mine to shame.

We rose early one morning and headed to Milford Sound (with, we found later, barely enough gas to make it there and back... we coasted into Te Anau at the end of the day on fumes).  Besides that minor stress, the drive was tremendous.

We climed higher and higher into the mountains.

Finally we came to a tunnel bored into this mountain side.  We emerged on the other side looking strait down into Milford Sound.

We took the required boat tour of the sound.  Here are two 4,500 foot peaks that plunge directly into the sea.  Notice the seemingly tiny 500 foot waterfall emerging between them and falling into the sea below.  Milford Sound and its surrounds are big, impressive sights to say the least.

Those 4,500 foot mountains are small fries compared to Mitre Peak, a 6,000 foot mountain that towers above the sound, and surrounding clouds.  It is impossible to understand the scale of the things around you as you cruise the area.  We were told if a person were hiking on the top of the smaller mountains, such as the one in the previous pictures, you would not be able to see them with the naked eye.

As we headed back into the head of the sound from the Tasman Sea, we saw some fur seals sunning on a rock.

Here is that 500 foot waterfall up close.

Yeah.

Our trusty, if empty, Corolla station wagon on the way back to Te Anau.

On the way back to town, just off the side of the road, are the Mirror Lakes.  These are oxbow lakes cut off from the nearby river.  They are crystal clear and very dramatic.

Where do you go to see dramatic nature after you have been places such as this?

SPT DAY 30: TO THE WEST COAST

We left the Hapuku Lodge for the west coast of the South Island.  It was raining hard when we left Kaikoura, and as we drove into the hills it began to pour.  We were listening to Black to Comm's album, Alphabet 1968, and it made for a eerie drive through gray hills and shadowy woodlands between Kaikoura and Lewis Pass.  Here is a video of theirs to put you in the mood:

After listening to an hour of this we were dreaming up dark scenarios where the hundreds of wet sheep we were passing all suddenly stood up on their hind legs and slowly turned toward us to stare in unison.  

Just as we changed the music to something cheerier, the rain let up and we drove into the Victoria Forest National Park.

We came upon the Mauria Springs Thermal Resort just in time, and pulled over to take a dip in their very hot natural springs... to wash away the darkness.

The Japanese style baths were just what we needed mid-drive, and after soaking for 30 minutes, we continued on our way toward the coast.

Here is the Buller Gorge, where things started to get really dramatic just a few minutes away from the ocean.

Outside the town of Westport we stopped for lunch at the Bay House Cafe on Cape Foulwind.  Despite the name, given by Captain Cook, the weather finally broke and the sun came out momentarily.

We were able to sit outside and enjoy the cafe's view and beautiful subtropical garden.

South of Westport the fog rolled in and hid the sun again.  This didn't keep the drive from being one of the most dramatic I have ever experienced.  By the time we made it to the boarders of Paparoa National Park, we were speechless: rugged cliffs, seemingly tropical rain forest, black sand beaches, 100 foot waterfalls, bright orange flowers.  It looked like something Dr. Seuss would dream up for a children's book.
Here are the pancake rocks of Dolomite Point in the national park.  Awesome.

After the drama of the Paparoa region, the broad plains and wide driftwood strewn beach of Hokitika, our stop for the night, seemed quaint.

Hokitika was a mining boom town, and maintains an end-of-the-earth feeling of isolation and eccentricity.

The bizarre but pretty town library.

Perhaps the weirdest thing in all of Hokitika was the cuisine.  I listened to the accounts of several guide books and magazine articles and tried the famous whitebait pizza.  Whitebait is the immature version of the local river smelt.  That is right: fish with cheese pizza.  I wanted to like it, I really did... but it was everything you imagine when you think of baby fish and mozzarella together.  Avoid it at all cost.  ALL cost.

BDAY, PART I

This weekend we hosted a birthday dinner for a friend.  It was a group effort; other friends cooked (more on that tomorrow) and we crammed 12 people in our tiny kitchen.  I made three little simple arrangements for the table.

Peonies, ranunculus, and black berries.  Not grown locally, as obviously it is not peony season, and thus not very earth-friendly, but it was a special occasion.

I am actually not a big lover of complex flower arrangements (maybe because I am not so skilled at making them).  My preferred look is just a simple bunch of one type of flower thrown in a vase.  This time, however, I felt like the combination of these two blooms and one fruit was just perfect.  I arranged them in the some pottery handmade by a friend's mother.  The reds against the dark blue and turquoise of the pottery makes me happy. 

I got some dark navy napkins as well.

Maybe it's time to invest in some more bowls, plates and cutlery.  Another generous friend had to bring some of hers so we would have enough place settings.  I like an eclectically set table, so I am going to start looking for some interesting dinnerware to coordinate (but not match) what we already have.

AUTUMN GARDEN WORK

I have been really neglectful of my little roof garden since the end of summer.  I set out this past weekend to clean up collected leaves, sort out the compost and plant some bulbs for next spring.

There were a few surprises.  First of all, blooms on things that should have long passed their peak, including this Dahlia, and the Azalea below.

I planted some Narcissus bulbs.

The warm weather over the last month has also forced last year's bulbs to start sprouting.  I buried in the hopes that I will still get some blooms in the spring.  We will see.  There seems to be an almost Mediterranean micro-climate on our roof that keeps things warm well into December, even on a normal year.

The compost was FULL of earthworms.  More interesting, though, was the new ecosystem that formed in the collected dirt and leaves piled up in the corners and behind pots.  Imagine if you left the natural accumulation for more than a season... you would have trees growing out of the roof in no time.

Cosmos still blooming.

Autumn colors.