Keeping to the East
With a gulp of coffee and a wave of nostalgia, I set out on the drive along the slender east coast from Picton towards ‘home’ in Lyttelton.
Somewhere along the way I pulled over and climbed the tallest hill I could find.
Field Notes ~ ‘In the afternoon light the hills will rust, colours cascade in browns, purples and a shade of yellow I can’t describe. Dry grass hills, the silhouettes of horses and cows are plastic toys, indiscernible landscapes in the distance.’