Race to Kereru

As I left the ferry, I raced. My lungs were soon screaming for oxygen. But I continued my relentless pace. Why? Well, I had just left a ferry which had two school field trips and had just arrived at a bird sanctuary. Sometimes noisy excited kids and birds did not mix, so I raced. With the only intent being, I needed as much space between me and the gaggle of young humans.

Now. Don't get me wrong. I like kids (they are a bit iffy about me - mostly because I get incredibly awkward around them). But, I had come to this island sanctuary in the Hauraki Gulf, Tiritiri Matangi, looking for a day of quiet. As the city had been noisy and my mind noisy and my life noisy for a while and I was seeking sanctuary in the bush. Where the only sounds were the birds and the trees.

So. I raced. Until there was a good gap between me and anyone behind.

And as I was racing, I suddenly came across two kereru having a morning feast in the Nikau. My eyes widened.

As I lifted my hands to take this image. I felt my hands shaking. Perhaps from adrenaline from my race to get here, or perhaps in excitement from what I was seeing. Two big kereru, their feathers reflecting the light and their red eyes piercing me with a look. As to say, are you a threat? Do I need to pause my breakfast to make a hasty escape? And I hoped that I managed to convey, be still, be still, I am no threat. Simply an astounded passerby.

I left them to their breakfast. I heard people coming up the path and for some reason my heart still screamed for solitude. So I bid them farewell, and made my retreat. I soon heard a flappy whoosh sound. Signifying that they had now left.

Harakeke Corridor

I slowed my pace. Knowing that I had now found that solitude I had been so desperate for. I found myself in a long corridor of harakeke and manuka. All a bloom with Spring. A tieke had his beak deep within a flower - his beak soon a glow with pollen.

There was a woman who soon joined me. She spoke out to the tieke. Her face breaking into a smile when he or she sang out - his laughing gleeful tune. And I also joined her, in that feeling of joy at simply being within their space. To have this honour, of being able to be here. To talk to the tieke and hear that laughing song.

I wandered off. Not really knowing where I wanted to go. Simply letting myself wander through the green. A mournful song soon rang out - across the canopy. A song that made my heart miss a beat and my eyes widen. It was the Kokako. The elusive beautiful kokako. The songstress of the forest. I never saw her, but the song soon nestled in my heart. Creating this deep sense of being somewhere of the past - a past where the forest dominated New Zealand and glass buildings and concrete developments were not even a twinkle in humanities eye

A Tui Joins Me

A tui croaks and laughs from high above. Swoosh. A flutter of wings and air and speed passes my ear.

Landing on the harakeke, he feasts. He jumps from bloom to bloom, his face alight with pollen. And his energy is high and buzzy. He stops only to chase off any interloper who dares glances at his treasure. Or to jump to the next bloom.

I sit. I sit within the towering haven of harakeke. Content to simply watch the tui jump from flower to flower. To listen to the laughing tieke. And to breathe in that solitude and quiet I had been seeking.

A softy chattering kākāriki

A soft chatter draws my attention. A soft soft noise. And then swoop, a brightly dressed kākāriki lands not too far from me. All neon greens and flashy reds. They make a statement wherever they may fly. And they have certainly drawn my gaze. I crouch. Low. Keep low, I repeat. I slowly edge closer to this vibrant avain beacon. He or she pins me with a look, this red red stare. And I still remain crouched. Transfixed by this bird.

I feel as if we are caught in this still pocket of time. One wrong move from both, and the spell will be broken - bird fleeing and me left in the dust. And I still remain crouched simply wishing to soak up this moment. So, it will always be with me. And as I slowly rise, to try and take that one picture. The click of the shutter breaks the spell and we go our separate ways.

A bellbird sings her mimics

I continue. I continue on my way. Past the harakeke corridor, retreating to the cool forest. My shirt sticks to my back, as I start to feel the effects of the unrelenting sun.

I hear another kokako. Wait. No. Now it is a tui. And again back to the kokako. I round the corner and see a male bellbird singing. A skilled mimic. Picking and choosing which notes to add to his song this time, perhaps a dash of mournful kokako tunes followed by the cheeky tui crackles. I watch transfixed as this weaver of song, creates such a delightful mismash of sound. His chest puffing out with every inhale, before his mighty exhale of sound. He has chosen a good perch for his solo, wishing to sing out to the whole forest.

A Tui has a bath

I have a seat. Wishing to rest my weary back and legs and my racing heart. A robin fledgling makes quite the racket beside the path - food, food, food he seems to scream. I glance around, looking for mum or dad. They soon arrive - quickly ushering their child away. Deeper into the forest, for food and safety.

A splish splash draws my attention. A bellbird has dropped in for a bath. Water flicks everywhere.

Joyful. Free.

And soon a bossy tui, chases away the bathing bellbird. It is his time to bath, and the bellbird apparently did not get the memo. He dips in. Or rather he dives in. Dives and dives, splashing water everywhere. He pays no mind to the strange human watching him bathe. Fixated on getting the water in all the right places and perhaps cooling off from the unrelenting heat.

He continues his process. Of diving and flicking water droplets around. And I sat fixated. A lone man, equipped with binoculars and an eager grin joins me. And though we do not speak a word to each other, there is this shared connection as we share this joy for nature.

I wander off. Returning to the ferry. And I leave, exhausted and happy. I found my solitude. And I found that peace. And that is what I held close to my heart - as children screamed around me on the way home. Though, I did make the decision to perhaps never have children. But, that is neither here nor there.

Come with me to Tiritiri Matangi