The mourning gown

This was the day Lou Reed died, this was the day I walked in the bush and this was the day I wore a floral dress. It was Labour Day 2013 and we spent the day with a dear friend in the Wairarapa.

 

In the morning we woke up to the news that Lou Reed had died. It was all over facebook and people that I never thought would be fans were posting about him and his music. We listened to Lou for a good few hours and I read bits and pieces from this autobiography. He lived in a time of such liberation and freedom yet he had to constrain so much of who he was. It made me think that I am so blessed to live in a world where I can be me, just me, who ever I want to be.  

After we listened to Lou Reed and ate breakfast and read books we drove up the road to Fensham Reserve near Carterton. Walking through the reserve is like walking through loads of different types of bush. There is a swampy bit with Kahikatea, a fernery with mamaku and ponga, a grassy bit, and an amazing dense section with totara and matai. My favourite bit was a bit of the track where you felt as though the trees were hugging you as you walked along the narrow path. What makes this bush so cool is that there are loads of signs around telling you what the trees are; like a living classroom. There were loads of birds around and at one stage we got followed along by tirairaka (fantail). As we walked along my boyfriend picked pikopiko, also known as bush asparagus. 

 I love being in the bush, I love being outside and walking, I often forget how much I love it.

I got this dress in Napier from a big big op shop. I had been in Napier for the week at Kura Reo, a week long total immersion Maori language course, after my boyfriend came to get me we stopped at the op shop on the way to a cafe for lunch. When I went to order my lunch I did it in Maori without noticing. I had to turn my brain back into English and it was the most incredible feeling. If you don't speak a language you soon loose it. My boyfriend doesn't really like speaking Maori to me (it's his first language) so I feel as though slowly, it is slipping out of my head, and one day it might just disappear. I know my teacher would be disappointed in me as he believed and taught us that no matter how little we should still use it, and often. He used to tell us about how when he was driving he would practice his speeches to the dead by doing them to the road kill. It was silly but made so much sense. There is a great whakatauki (proverb) that I always go back to in my life that kinda works to sum up my little rant about my uselessness about speaking Maori and my love of the bush. 

Ko te manu kai i te miro, nona te ngahere. Ko te manu kai i te matauranga nona te ao.

The bird who eats the berry gains the forest. The bird that consumes knowledge gains the world.