The Ethereal Glade

As the days passed by, I became more and more at home on the farm in Levin. Carolyn (my host) and I occasionally had problems, both being very strong-willed, but they never lasted long.

I got to go with the whole family up to Palmerston North for Devany’s singing competition, where she easily held her own against older kids. Two of the other girls said we sounded like sisters (and Devany had proudly introduced me as such), which led to a confusing yet fascinating discussion. It turns out that Devany sounds American to them and British to me. It was entertaining and enlightening all at once.

I also discovered that day that I am more comfortable and happy among the children of another country than the adults. The children still possess that same sense of wonder and adventure which has brought me halfway across the world.

I got to Skype with my parents about every other weekend, and seeing their faces and speaking with them always lifted my spirits.

For the most part, I got up around 8:30, let the cats eat and then go out, made a cup of Earl Grey with crumpets, occasionally accompanied by eggs or “yoghurt”, and then wrote or watched Youtube videos until 9:30, when it was time to feed the horses. I pulled on a sweatshirt and boots and set out toward the barn. It was usually brisk and often wet, but by the time I got out there among the smells of the barn and happy noises from the horses, with the backdrop of the mountains, I was always happy to be so.

While I waited for the horses to be done eating, I would mix up their dinner and then sit on a little section of fence beside the long gate to the barn and look out toward the mountains, or go through Logan’s paddock to say hello to the three gorgeous show horses on the other side of the fence. Sometimes I would just hang out in the barn until Dannii finished and pet her, then love on Rosie when she was done next, and then finally Logan. He eats the most so he takes the longest.

On my last week there, I started bringing my Hillsong Bible down to the barn with me and reading in Romans while the horses ate. I got to calling them “kids”, and would greet them or tell them goodbye as such, always calling out to them that I loved them after I let them out. I don’t know if they liked it, but I did.

As the time to leave Levin drew nearer, I knew I had to stop putting off exploring the rest of the area. There was much more to see. I had planed a last-minute weekend trip down to Wellington that I was really excited about, especially since I had thought I would have to miss Wellington this time around, and on the day that my bus left, I had until about 2:30pm to explore. I packed a sandwich and set out.

I knew I wanted to go in another different direction this time—toward the East. There was a rough road that went right past my bedroom, which the neighbor drove his tractor on every day, and I wanted to see if I could follow it through the massive fields that lie between Carolyn’s farm and the mountains.

From my vantage point on my first adventure walk, I had gotten a good look at two huge, green hills that sat behind the woods at the back of the girls’ paddock. I wanted to get to them, walk up to the top, and then just lie in the grass and write. I also had seen a row of barren, golden hills on the far left side of the big, wooded foothills across the fields, and I wanted to run on top of them. They looked like they were straight out of Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli’s epic chase in The Two Towers. So I thought I’d visit the green hills and then, either the same day or a different one, go all the way to the golden hills, which were much further away.

I took the tractor road to the hills, but was disappointed to see that they were dotted with cows—that meant they were off limits to me, so I just admired their enormous beauty and carried on. I decided to see if I could make it to the other hills, even though I had a deadline.

 

I crossed over the fields, climbing a couple fences that I probably shouldn’t have, and got yelled at by a load of obnoxious cows on the other side of a stream and a road.

I began to realize that the hills were a lot farther away than they looked. I was getting quite warm with the sun beating down on me, and my legs were no longer fresh. I was approaching a grove of trees that I had seen from the farm and I had planned to cross between them and the hills. I don’t remember why exactly, but instead of going around the grove, I went into it.

 

I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place more beautiful or enchanting. The trees were dark and massively tall, spaced pretty far away from each other, and the branches on the outskirts were a mystical tangle.




As I went down into the center, it got lighter instead of darker. The sun was streaming in and illuminating the scrub brush, making it look heavenly. It was as if I had just stepped into a secret kingdom.



I couldn’t stop gazing, open-mouthed, at everything around me. I had found a paradise in the most unexpected place.

 

The soil was rich and the shade of the enormous trees comforting. Looking out through a gap in the trees on my right, there was a wooden gate and beyond it, more of those soft, green, rolling hills.



I felt like I was sitting in the Shire, in the forest of Buckland where Frodo would sit and read, and looking out at the way to Hobbiton. I say with the utmost sincerity that Gandalf could have pulled up in his fireworks cart and I would not have been a bit surprised.

I sat down underneath a tree, looking across the golden-lit underbrush, and proceeded to take off my boots and socks and enjoy my lunch. I wanted to stay there forever, or at least go back every day.


 

When I was done eating, I took a couple pictures and, with my battery almost depleted, realized that this was the PERFECT place to record my a cappella version of Pippin’s song from The Return of the King, as I had been hoping to do in The Goblin Forest.


 

That was part of the excitement of being there in the grove: my camera was going to die any second and I was just snapping pictures left and right, trying to capture as much of that ethereal beauty as I could before it went black. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t ever be able to come back.

I found the perfect angle, hit record, and started singing. 

I liked the first one, but knew I had a better one. I decided to just keep doing one after another until I ran out of battery and then pick the best later. It turns out I ran out of time before battery, but the last one was the best anyway. (You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJNPX51EH7Q)

Reluctantly, I packed up, put my shoes back on, and took one last picture.



I’ll never forget that place, and I’m so glad I was able to capture it to take home with me. It will most likely be making an appearance in my books, as will many of my other favorite places I’ve seen here. Many of the best ones—like the Glade—are the ones that you would never, ever find on a map. You just have to go out and discover them yourself.

 

Trial by Illness & The First Adventure Walk

(Continued excerpts from my New Zealand travel diary)

I returned from my Sydney trip via an overnight bus ride which arrived back in Levin at 5AM. Carolyn graciously picked me up at the bus stop and I collapsed in bed for a few hours before doing my day's work. That day and the following, I think I pushed myself too hard, having not fully recovered from my fever yet, and my health rapidly declined. I was sick and sleeping on my bed or the couch for a lot of the next several days, eating next to nothing and rarely even well enough to feed the horses (Carolyn picked up the slack). All the previous symptoms had returned, along with a badly congested nose and a profound lack of energy. In addition to all of that, my right ear never un-popped from the flight to Auckland. it was incredibly annoying, often distracting, and occasionally painful. It had happened before, but had always been resolved within a day.

I tried everything I could think of, everything the internet suggested, and everything family and friends advised. Some things helped; some made it worse. It was so blocked that I could barely hear out of it, and the pressure was at times nearly unbearable.

The breakthrough came when our next door neighbor back home said she'd had the same problem when flying with water in her ear after scuba diving. I had been at the beach swimming the day before flying, so that must have been why it was so much worse than ever before. Carolyn also said that the congestion was part of what was clogging up my Eustachian Tubes, and that I would need Sudafed.

By now, it had been probably a week and a half, my body was healed except for my ear, and I was back to work.

A doctor friend suggested Sudafed, nasal spray, and chewing gum, so I finally decided that I needed to buy meds. I was worried about the cost, though, and Mom and Dad decided to cover it because they wanted me to enjoy my trip in good health. Carolyn picked them up the next day, and within two or three days, my ear was clear!

That entire week and a half or two, I was covered in prayers and messages of concern and support from everyone back home--even people I have never met. They may never know just how much that lifted my spirit.

Finally, I was back to my normal routine. I worked every day, finishing Logan's paddock and eventually the girls', doing extensive weeding in the gardens, cleaning, and having occasional fits of cooking/baking.

As the days grew colder, the cats were allowed to come in at night instead of sleeping in the garage, and I fell asleep many a night to the sound of their purring.

Poppy and Quentin

At some point, I decided it was time I properly explored the area. I had gazed at the surrounding hills and the far-off line of mighty pines day after day, but had never ventured up the road. I had waited long enough.

One left turn and straight into the hills

I set out up the road with just my camera. I took a couple pictures of the lower farmland as I went.

Looking back

Notice there are mountains in the background of nearly every picture

It became clear right off that my legs were already stronger than they had been before. My calves used to start hurting pretty quickly whenever I walked, even if it wasn't uphill, and I would be absolutely miserable on inclines. They always felt very tight and stretching didn't help much. Now, after walking all over New Zealand and Sydney, my legs are much more relaxed while walking and I can walk not only faster but farther, even if it's uphill the whole way. It feels so good to expand what I'm capable of and to open up more possibilities.

This walk in particular was very much uphill. I reached the end of the road and started looking for the path that Carolyn said led up into the mountains.

North Manakau Road dead-ends right into what looks like a gravel driveway with a metal gate, and it disappears up around a bend. I was walking toward it when a truck came from behind and I stepped aside, turning awkwardly. The driver sort of glared at me as he passed, and I thought that must be his property so I left.

Just to the side of that, though, was a grassy road-looking thing, half-hidden by a cluster of trees. I was pretty sure it wasn't the right path, but at least it looked like it hadn't been driven on recently, if ever, and it seemed to go right up into the foothills, rather than the mountains themselves. Since these foothills and the treeline were the place I had longed to walk--and since I wasn't content to turn back without an adventure--I decided to take it.

First glimpse of the view that waited behind me

It was incredibly steep and at some point I think it ended, because I found myself just scaling the lumpy hills. I had to put down my right hand a couple of times, and kept my camera always safe in my left.

I climbed higher and higher through the long grass and dirt, getting closer to the pines and the alluring darkness between them.

I had to cross to the other side of a sheep fence on my left as I got nearer to the top, because the red thorn bushes had suddenly became too thick to pass through and would take a great deal of time and backtracking to skirt around. The fence was right next to me and the other side was clear, so I carefully climbed it.

Finally, I reached the top and was able to cross back over the fence, hop up a grassy hill, and at last look out at the entire valley of endless farms and hills.

It was more beautiful than I had imagined, and the sunlight touched every blade of grass and made it vibrant.

I could even see the sea shining far off in the distance, just barely. It was so exhilarating, and a fitting reward for my climb.

I couldn't see Carolyn's house, but by identifying nearby landmarks, I was able to make out the barn, the neighbor's shed, a little mobile home in the field next door, and a small grove of huge pines that the sun sets behind every evening.

The white building in the very center is Carolyn's barn

It felt like I was surveying some magical kingdom.

The abundance of green, rolling hills is one of my favorite things about this country. I just want to walk across all of them.

I went in among the trees then, and climbed a little higher until I found one where I sat down with my back against it and enjoyed simply being in that place that I had dreamed of being.

Yes, that is sheep wool

Eventually, I found a place to cross back over the fence. I could see a grassy road a little ways down that wove off to the right and seemed like it might get me going in the right direction. I wasn't sure I could find the path I had been on again, and from up where I was it looked like it would be shorter and possibly easier to just keep going and cut across country.

So I made it down the steep, grassy slope to the road and followed it along the edges of the hills until, as the sun was beginning to set behind the mountains ahead, I rounded a bend and came upon one of the huge power line towers I had seen from the farm. I couldn't resist a bit of silhouette fun with the burning sun and that crazy view.

From there, it looked like the road curved off too far to the right and through sheep fields, so I decided to leave it. I walked along the top of a hill that ran perpendicular to the grassy road and down to the actual road.

Partway down, I saw a couple horses down the hill from me and on the same side of the fence. That meant I was definitely on someone's property, so I booked it to the road. I wasn't worried, though, because I figured that if someone saw me I'd just say I was taking a shortcut home, because I was.

Once back on the road, I couldn't help grinning (and not just because of the cows that greeted me). That was the most fun I'd had in the country up to that point. It's been a long time since I've gone adventuring, and never in so exquisite a place. Why did I wait so long?