My Thought for Today ..

What will the world hold for my wee grandson sleeping so peacefully in his hammock ? I just hope the world listens to the wise ones and heeds their warnings, I want my grandchildren to know the beauty of nature as I do - plant trees everyone and nuture your children and grandbabies - teach them well ...

When the last bee died,

nobody noticed. Nobody put on black

or made a dirge for the death

of honey. Nobody wrote an elegy

to apricotes, no one mourned for cherries.

When the last bee died,

everyone was busy. They had things to do,

drove straight to work each morning,

stright back home each night.The roads

all seriously hummed.Besides,

the pantries were still packed

with cans of fruit cocktails in heavy syrup,

deep deep freezers full

of concentrated grape and orange juice,

stores stocked with artificial flavouring.

When the last bee died, nobody cried

for burdock, yarrow and wild delphinium.

Now and again a child would ask for

dandelions, quickly shushed: that pest !

And everyone is fine. The children healthy,

raddish-cheeked.They play she loves me/not

with savoy cabbage leaves, enjoy the telling

of the great mythes, peach and peony.

no one believes in apples anymore.

End Notes for a Small History by Betty Lies

As I sit here on a hot summer day with thousands of cicada yelling out their mating songs,and a slight breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees in my garden, I suddenly become very aware of how lucky I am to live where I live - no fighting and death, warmth, food and a roof over my head. The poem above I feel is very important for all to heed, not only bees, but so many of our insects,plants and animals are loosing their lives to greedy human activities. Without bees to pollinate so many of our food plants, life will be very different and boring to say the least - 3/4 of the food we eat is pollinated by the honey bee Apis melliera.

Some of you may know I have another blog which is my diary really of my beekeeping adventures, it is a hobby I really enjoy, the honey being a bonus. To see and hear my garden, and the neighbours, buzzing with bees, leaves me with such a sense of wonderment - I am doing my small part for my environment.

New Zealand has always been percieved as `clean and green`, but we are dismally failing to uphold these ideals - once the Waikato river is able to be swum in again, there is no rubbish on our beautiful beaches or roadsides and NO more native tree milling, then I will believe our Govt is doing as much as it can to fix the problems.

My Country, My Heart . . .

Aotearoa, The Land of the Long White Cloud, or as it is known through - out the world, New Zealand, is my land - I am drawn to her every fibre . . I know I can never live away from these shores for long before needing to come home.
Maybe it is something to do with the fact that we are 2 larger and afew small islands parked way down at the bottom of the Pacific ocean, one of the last places to be discovered by the western world, with totally amazing flora and fauna that has stayed the same for thousands of years.

Forgive me for rambling, but I feel a connection to this place that seems to get deeper as I get older, I feel drawn to my birthplace - does anyone else feel that ? - or am I a real weirdo as my children secretly think ?
We, as a nation, tend not to express our emotions, a left-over from the Victorian era that most of our ancestors immigrated in. My grandmother, who was born here, referred to England as `home` until she died. We have a developed a certain culture of our own, only in the last 50 years , so as you can imagine, the old ways still rear their puritain heads sometimes. Anyone waxing lyrical about anything is mocked, the `tall poppy syndrom` - never mind, at least my children will always beable to say their mother was never boring, she did her best to always make life interesting and fun !!

BREATH

The amazing flower of the tall, slender, native tree Rewarewa, Knightia excelsa - this tree is endemic to NZ, grows up to 30 m tall with the trunk up to 1 m in diameter. The rusty red flowers come straight out of the wood - necter loving birds and bees love these interesting looking flowers !
Here is a poem I found, I am not sure of its author, but it never fails to up-lift my soul . . .

BREATH

Tree, gather up my thoughts

Like the clouds in your branches.

Draw up my soul

Like the water in your roots

In the arteries of your trunk

bring me breath.

Through your leaves

breath out the sky.

Te Parapara Gardens . .

The recently finished pre-European Maori garden, Te Parapara, is an amazing example of our NZ heritage. The only garden of its type ever built since the original ( pre 1800`s), the garden is situated on the bank of the Waikato river in Hamilton Gardens, the site of an ancient Maori pa . The top photo is the entrance to the actual garden, before that you walk along a path through plantings which are really getting tall, another couple of years and it will be a mini forest !

The vege garden itself is surrounded by a tall manuka spiked fence, typical of the kind used by Maori, it makes a formidable barrier, lashed together with a strong plant material. There are a series of wooden carvings along the pallisades which portray the many Maori dieties of this area, Tainui. The small building on legs is a Pataka or traditional store house for the food, kept out rats etc. Always elaborately carved and well guarded, these small buildings were an important part of the garden, if food was not stored properly, the people would starve.

The last photo is of the Kumera mound, the earth mounded with ash or gravel added and the plants planted in a symbolic way,usually by the women of the tribe - all connected to the fertility of women .. Kumera or sweet potato, were brought to NZ with the first Maori, over 1000 years ago. Taro and a number of other tropical plants were brought here also, but most died in the harsh winters, taro is grown in the northern areas, especially around Auckland which has a large Polynesian population.

Christmas at our place ..

My family spent Christmas at Pip and Matt`s over on the east coast at a beach side village - Papamoa - a beautiful long stretch of white sand and blue waves. My eldest Grandchild, Lia, spent alot of time at the table with her new drawing books, she is very talented like her Mum, Megan, my eldest daughter, who is an artist. It was quite a warm day so all the windows and doors were flung open to the sea breeze, nice mellow music and a very tasty BBQ with yummy salads and desserts were laid out for a feast !

Meg holding her little nephew Jackson, who belongs to my son Cameron and his wife Carly. This cutie is 4 months old now and very sweet.

My gorgeous Grandson, Elliott Thomas, just loved ripping paper off his presents then stuffing it into the stacking cups his Nana gave him - oh, and the mouth organ was fun to !!