When the rain falls

  As the rain fell steadily, soaking the earth, I watched the season tilt towards winter and thought of Irihapeti.   Twenty years earlier, we sat in her Wellington garden, talking of grief and how it so often accompanies the midlife crossing.  She was...
Ngāhuru – Harvest

Ngāhuru – Harvest

The woman sitting next to me at the concert pulled a paper bag out of her handbag. ‘Would you like two pears from my tree?’  This was rather surprising, first as I knew her only slightly and hadn’t seen her for two decades. Second, we were sitting on...