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.