Where Stars Still Shine At Night

July 8th 2013: Would you rather spend time in the forest or the city?

I'm not a great fan of the city. Constant noise, smell and so many people, all rushing here and there so busy and yet so purposeless. There are a lot of horrible and sad sights as well, such as a homeless man pulling a trolley of his belongings up the street, a group of talented musicians busking without any notice or earnings, and fights outside the hotels and brothels, to the ever-present background ringing of police, ambulance and fire engine sirens. All this makes me feel claustrophobic and depressed. Too often that sense of community is lost in the endless houses and streets. However, cities hold a keen insight into humanity. It is fascinating to watch people and think about who they are and where they are going, to visit poorer districts and secret buildings and alleyways lost in the maze. In a city there is always something to be discovered. With their own intrigues, happenings and crimes, cities provide constant inspiration to the writer. (A poem I wrote inspired by the city at night: "Invalid Item" )

Living in the city is my ultimate nightmare, even though visiting it can be enjoyable. I am fortunate enough to live on a small farm in the countryside in a beautiful valley with its glittering river, rich plains and towering hills. Out here there is freedom, quiet and time – to appreciate nature and the fullness and beauty of life. The only sounds are the birds chirping and singing, the occasional putter of a distant quad-bike and the echo of the train like thunder far away in the hills. Of course, there is always the baaing of sheep, the mooing of cows and the help-helping of the peacocks, and the wind in the big macracapa trees over the road or rustling the corn heads or the rain on the tin roof.

People are wrong to think that nothing happens in the country. It's just that we aren't overly busy like townsfolk. We have our own excitements, of course. Sometimes it's the neighbour calling for help to stack up the silage heap or stopping by to ask for this or that, or to borrow a tractor. Sometimes it's the buzz of the hay season and all the work that comes with it, or a tasty bit of gossip circulating up and down the valley (usually starting at the pub), or Guy Fawkes barbeque, bonfire and fireworks at the hall. There are times when there is a fire that someone needs help putting out or when the neighbour's wife had a fall off her horse and broke her pelvis and the ambulance needed directions down the farm tracks. But yes, out here it's definitely a slower pace of life – not sleepy, but spacious. We have our own time.

Forests are definitely among my favourite places in the world. I love commercial forests with their neat rows of pines – there's something mesmerizing staring down those rows, wondering where they lead and where they end. The pine-carpeted floor and the curving tracks that lead ever up and onward, branching off into uncharted territory. The sun falling through the treetops and dappling the damp earth. The glimpse of deer and goats and rabbits. Forests are a fantastic place to go for walks and to sit and think. I have found a lot of inspiration for my writing there as well, especially in my first book, which is about partisans living in the forests of Poland during World War II. A short story also was inspired after a hunting trip in a forest further north ("Invalid Item" ).

But I also love the wild and deep bush. Here in New Zealand we have thousands of kilometers of bush. It has such an awe-inspiring atmosphere, as if in the presence of something great. The bush doesn't lead anywhere like the commercial forests. If anything, it closes you out – or in. Once inside the shades of its endless roof, another world is before you. Tramping, a favourite pastime of ours, can take you days into the middle of nowhere, far away from anyone or anything. It's lonely out there, and magnificent. In a group of trampers there is always a deep feeling of fellowship. Despite all differences, you are all in the mercy of nature. It's almost like a gentle survivor's course! ("Invalid Item" )

For myself, I would rather spend time in a forest, but for others, to observe people...the city.

What's happening?

My birthday is coming up on the 15th July – join the party at "Invalid Item" 

Recent writes: "Invalid Item"  and "Invalid Item" 

Won first place tied in "The Writer's Cramp - Poetry Week"  twice with "Invalid Item"  and "Invalid Item"  (don't worry, I'm not suicidal! You'd definitely hear about it if I was. Read it to see what it's about. )

Won Rising Stars Best Poetry Reviews June 2013!