Free Range Chickster

ALL HAIL THE WEATHER ANGEL

I have a Weather Angel looking after me. She’s been pretty good to me in Dunedin, my hats and gloves and blankets are still where I put them two months ago as I anticipated moving south in winter- in my car. Everyone said I was mad, but I had faith. It has been mostly fabulous and the brutal moments invigorating, like crunching down on a strong peppermint.

Yesterday, after much indecision over the weather, I left Dunedin and drove to Central Otago. On the way it snowed and hailed and rained. Not like peppermints at all, more like cold rice pudding. The windscreen wipers scratchy and noisy with the hail and ice.

I looked out from my over-heated car at the freezing little lambs, new babies destined for Xmas dinner on another winter’s day in London and felt furious and helpless. They were huddled to their mothers or the fenceline - I guess I’m just not tough enough for the country, a city wimp.

And actually I was a bit scared driving in that snow on empty roads. In the North Island we grizzle and moan about the crowded highways, but an empty road covered in snow flurries is not my favourite view.

Eventually, as my Weather Angel predicted, I ended up safe and warm and dry in Alexandra. And then, in the morning, as the sun streaked through the dirty motel window, clear skies dawned. And I lay in my bed and listened to alarming weather reports of freezing, treacherous icy roads in central Dunedin- my escape as lucky as the sunshine I’m sitting in now at the Cromwell Lookout.

Here, along with those of his mother and brother, some of Brian’s ashes are buried. His sister made a small shrine here and I was amazed, after all this time, to actually find it.

It is just a few days since the anniversary of his death. I sat with them a while.

He’s actually been popped down all over the place, a clifftop in Spain, Hyde Park in London, here in Cromwell where he grew up and so longed to return and a few other special spots around the place. I take him in a little box with me wherever I go.  I guess it’s a bit unconventional but I  am certain he would approve.

It’s historic and majestic and invigorating here. Central Otago is timeless and the same always, you can’t change the majesty of this landscape no matter how many ranches, rail trails and housing developments you put in. Those mountains, snow daubed all the way down their sides do not change.

So - vale - Brian and Sed and Maureen - I saw you. L