‘On the way’

It is now Autumn, south of the Equator. Still early days, though. Days are still long and even the evenings seem to give off heat. We wake up early during the week – before sunrise, even. Then the weekend rolls around and we still wake up early, but inevitably sleep in, not making our Spanish-style coffee and omelette until 10 or 11. The sky looks bright, as though it’d been rubbed and rubbed with a soft rag. The children next door are outside at all hours, and the sleepy neighbourhood cats sit drowsy in the shade. I love this time of year. Tove Jansson also loved the period between summer and autumn, imbuing this liminal time with promise and desire.

“I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know.

Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing: when both have fallen in love but still haven’t said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.”

So much now feels to be on the way…both in the literal and figurative sense. Next weekend, we have tickets to see Sebadoh play in Port Chalmers. Lou Barlow was formerly the bassist of Dinosaur Jr before he was rudely ejected and went on to form the Folk Implosion and Sebadoh. His music, in all its varying incarnations, formed the backdrop of the extreme highs and lows of my first few months of uni in San Francisco.

These past two months in Dunedin have brought about many moments like this – The Clean and the Verlaines playing reunion gigs just weeks after our arrival, Sam Hunt performing his poetry with David Kilgour’s new band backing.

More to come: we’re also waiting for the discovery of three boxes. Over the course of our shipping crate’s trans-Atlantic journey, the three largest boxes mysteriously went missing. First box: sleeping bags and an air mattress. Second box: oldish stereo and some ornaments. Third box: All of my clothes from the UK. One vintage ball gown, worn once to a winter ball at Cambridge. Many jackets, cardigans, and other well-loved items. But, it’s only stuff.

More exciting, we’re waiting for the arrival of one or two furry, four-legged friends. We still need bookcases and a couch, but once the house is fully furnished we will be making visits to meet potential new family members at the SPCA. I’m leaning heavily towards Hank and Popeye. (Sure to be renamed, of course. Sean wants a cat named Caius.)

Are you tired of mushrooms yet? I’m not. It’s been hot and rainy and hot again, and the mushrooms are bursting through the bush floor in their growth. Everything feels a bit on the verge – and I’m ready.















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