New Zealand Morris Tour 2015

Time for a summer holiday: somewhere with a balmy climate, even temperatures, and light zephyrs from the sea... New Plymouth fits the bill though it does have a frisson of risk... a dormant volcano; Mt Taranaki stands guardian over this rich farmland and gardeners' paradise.

Gardening and Morris Dancing - two of my favourite things!
This year the New Zealand annual Morris dancing gathering was based in New Plymouth and during the week of 4th - 10th January. It was hosted by Phoenix Morris who took more than eighty participants out and about around Taranaki.

What better way to start the week than with dance workshops. Here dancers learn a new dance from homesick Helen called 'Kiwis Fly Home.' 

But our Tour organisers, keeping in mind that we were on holiday and also had a big evening gig ahead of us, had programmed a Monday afternoon of idyllic excess at Tupare Gardens.

There was a picnic lunch on the river flat with bathing for the keen as well.

We could stroll in the magnificent 
public gardens and tour the beautifully conceived and crafted Chapman Taylor house. The Arts and Crafts house and the landscaped grounds were a dream realised of asphalt baron, Russell Matthews and his wife Mary. How remarkable that this garden and its house offer free entry to the public. A personal highlight for me was meeting a young American volunteer gardener. This botany student from Boston is also a great grandson of Russell and Mary! 

As our first day drew to a close it was time for our first public appearance as Morris dancers. The group made a heady entrance along a wooded path into a performance area, where a large crowd had settled in for an evening of entertainment. We were a booked act for the evening during New Plymouth's Festival of Light at Pukekura Park.

Many of us quail a bit at the thought of stage and formal performance. We are drawn rather to the spontaneity of street performance, the opportunity to banter with one another, to interact with the audience, and to be able to get away with muddling through at times.

Yet in spite of our reservations about formalised performance, we all rise to the occasion and I have to confess, make an effort to raise the standard of presentation. At the end of two hours, with a large appreciative audience, we were, exalted, satisfied, physically tired, but wide awake with adrenalin. The park, lit up for the Festival with fairy tale lighting arrangements, beckoned us to explore. 

Water is very evident in Pukekura Park: waterfalls, lakes and rivulets were all dressed with light -  from the colourful lanterns that were really rowing boats bobbing on water, to this eye catching sculpture of rain drops and birds' nests suspended above the Poet's Bridge. I was entranced too by the native forest giants with their lofty canopy uplit: ethereal.

Back to reality and dancing in the street the following day - Tuesday...

At Hawera, east of the mountain, where along with modern public spaces, there are also varied shop façades spanning the past 120 years or so. 

I particularly notice these street frontages when I'm away from Canterbury as so many of them fell in the earthquakes or have been demolished since.  But Hawera's outstanding architectural gem is the 100 year old concrete water tower!

After lunch we visited Tawhiti Museum -  a remarkable endeavour by Nigel Ogle. Not only is this a worthy collection of local artefacts but Nigel, a skilled model maker tells the local story too, with his very realistic scale models, based on local people, all made on site in the 'Body Shop.' The fellow peering out of the window, over Kitty's shoulder in the cafe gives a good idea of the realism the models bring to the historical displays. 

Wednesday was our Free day. There's always a bit of debate about the value of a free day during the annual tour. I happen to like the concept, and this year I even researched ahead what I would do with mine! The gardens of Taranaki are a national talking point for garden lovers, particularly Pukeiti, with its collection of rhododendrons in a rain forest setting. 

Unlike many famous gardens this was not a private garden bequeathed for posterity by the family, but an altruistic exercise by plantsman Douglas Cook in 1951, to establish a rhododendron garden for public enjoyment. This is another Taranaki garden, which is free to the public!

High summer is not a good time to visit a rhododendron collection for its flowers, apart from the Vireya types (one of which is shown earlier in this post), but there was still plenty of interest in the forest and in the specimen rhododendrons themselves. There's more to any plant than just its flowers and these huge seed capsules made great photographic subjects. Unfortunately I wasn't able to identify this species.

High summer is the time for hydrangeas, which were flowering prolifically all over the Taranaki countryside. A group of us arrived at Pukeiti early in the day when dew still sparkled on ferns and leaf tips, and the garden staff were gathering flowers...

which we later found arranged in the cafe. 

Disparate strands of Morris dancers  re-grouped in the evening for a ceilidh with a theme in keeping with the Tour's overall Way Out West theme...

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.  Great fun, and now I've seen the movie three times on repeat without dialogue, while it screened above the band.

Thursday was a day that became more than the sum of its parts, with a programme that somehow captured the essence of Taranaki or at least an outsider's rosy perception of it.

We danced early in the day at Waitara on the exquisitely carved and curved wharf stage beside the river.

I experimented with the 'poster' setting on my camera: Like the children jumping from the road bridge into the river; like the cows grazing in paddocks beside the railway track; and the home baked morning tea later in the morning, these bright colours remind me of a simpler, less worldly, mid 20th Century New Zealand. In fact the Duncan and Davies nursery catalogues come to mind, complete with a perfect snow-capped Mt Egmont - as Mt Taranaki was widely known then - as a backdrop to bright shrubs and flowers. 

That home-baked morning tea was waiting for us  on the platform at Tahora Station, on the Waitara Railway Preservation Society's historic line - a trip back in time.

But Taranaki's history is not just dairy cows and picture postcard scenes. It is ravaged by the repeated volcanic eruptions, brutal inter-tribal warfare, the Musket Wars, British subjugation and confiscation of Maori land.

In the afternoon we were received as guests at Owae Marae. As a group we had prepared a response song Te Aroha, for the welcome ceremony, proving that we can sing more than just traditional English ditties! Our massed voices sounded fantastic in this beautiful Wharenui, with its rich carvings representing all the Maori tribes of New Zealand. To me it felt like a perfect complement to the very English house at Tupare as this meeting house was designed a little earlier in the twentieth century by Sir Apirana Ngata who brought together the best of Maori and British culture in his work. Here at Owae Marae we also danced barefoot in the meeting house, and were feted in the Wharekai or dining hall with more home prepared food. We lunched on four varieties of fish caught for the occasion, served with fresh salads and tender cooked vegetables. The dish I couldn't get enough of wasn't quite the crayfish (lobster) salad but the marinated raw sea trout. Our hosts told us that it is possible to book accommodation at Owae Marae. If I were to stay - along with a sense of peace - I'd also be searching for a lesson on how to prepare that dish!    

Janet our chief Tour organiser - that's her in black waistcoat standing to the right of a pillar -  is affiliated with this Marae through family. What a great new family to be part of. It was sobering to be gently reminded that they are currently working towards settlement of land claims relating to the land confiscations of the 1860s. 

Phoenix Morris members certainly seem to have a deep-seated connection to this volatile land. Aaron, Janet's right hand man for this event, comes from a Cornish family who settled land around Waitara early in the 19th Century, and - it's a rare thing - that farm land is still in the family.

Phoenix Morris have also managed to get themselves a credit on the label of a New Zealand wine! They enjoy a good relationship with Kairau Vineyard. So for some sheer lazing about (and maintaining Phoenix's place on that label) the Tour spent the afternoon drinking wine, cooling off in the pool, but... for some, lazing about was too boring.

How much more English could we get? The maypole is a nifty portable model belonging to Rosewood Morris, who deftly erect it and then teach some routines. It's always satisfying to see the different woven patterns appearing during the dance, particularly when the dancers understand the process - as this group did. 

Friday was the last official day of the Tour so we hit town processing like a scene from The Wicker Man along the sea front 

and dancing there, and outside Puke Ariki, New Plymouth's museum and gallery space on its ancient fortification site.

I can't help noticing that this dance figure has been my photo of choice for three different outings in this post. For afficionados, it's the Swing from Border-style dance, Fanny Frail.

Last day, leads into last night, which means an Ale: feasting, with perennial toasts to Cecil Sharp and the Queen...

along with the realisation that I had next to no photos of me on Tour! A fellow feaster took this one of Kitty and me.

Then it was on to the dancing - completely to please ourselves. Finally I thought I'd mastered a way to get good indoor photos of dancing with an automatic setting on my camera. Alas no - the sports setting and the low light setting are independent of each other...  

so when it comes to action... this is the result.

A great night however my camera tells it. 
But do you think we could stop there. Quite a few of us hung around the next day... Kitty took me rowing on the lake... while others danced in Pukekura Park, and danced and swam at Tupare Gardens again.

For me this has been the best New Zealand tour yet, with its balance of relaxation and dancing, its strong of sense of place, and just the right number of participants to keep the family feel that I enjoy so much when NZ Morris dancers and some of our regular Australian and English fans get together. Well done to this year's organisers of the Way Out West Tour... and thank you Janet, Aaron, Glenda, Richard and Peter.  Next year 2016? Watch out for the Shake A Leg Tour around Christchurch!

Jeneane dancing in Pukekura Park, Photo by Yvonne Holmes
Kitty and Jeneane at the Feast, Photo by Barbara Riach

Year's End

Watching this orb web spider spin her web on the Christmas tree, which had come in from the garden, reminded me of the challenges I've faced this year - how every step forward seems
followed by a set back. Of course the spider's web didn't last long. Once the morning sun had moved away the gossamer disappeared from view, we carried on placing presents for each other under the tree, and broke the threads.  I'm sure she had another go and that's all I can do for the time being. When the chronic tiredness that dictates how I organise my day, or the indifference of social welfare reformers, or Newspeak from the Earthquake Commission threaten to overwhelm me I count my blessings and take the next step. 

There are certainly plenty of blessings in my Life and December brings so many of these to the fore.

Early in the month Kitty and I visited friends in Wellington, fitting in a spot of Morris dancing with the Britannic Bedlam Morris Gentlemen at the Thorndon Fair. A spot was about it with the rain that day driving us into the nearest pub for a pint or two.

But leaving the Capital behind doesn't mean leaving behind a rich cultural life. We came home to a house full of thespians, rehearsing, sewing, tweaking their Christmas show due to open next day at a school near us. I went to bed as Bryony and her Black Peach Theatre Company friends were puzzling over a framework of wire and draped fabric. I got up in the morning to be greeted by...

a fully-fledged and personable penguin!  Teagan, Logan, Holly; they've all been part of Bryony's social circle for a few years now, but their place here is definitely one of my blessings. 

Thanks Peaches for the extended version that you performed for adults in the DHSSD studio theatre - all those improvising skills of yours came in handy!

This year I combined my Summer Solstice observance with decorating the Ashley Church Christmas tree.  The summery photo of Kitty and me capering under our willow tree was part of that day and I enjoyed dancing to sung music for a change.

My sister Ingrid worked her magic with flowers from her garden to decorate the church for the annual Christmas Eve Carol Service,

which reminds me how well roses grow around the Ashley village and how late the early roses have flowered this year. They are often over by Christmastime but are still budding and cascading here on New Year's Eve!

One blessing that cannot be forgotten in my December round-up is the progress on the new Ashley bridge. Those of us who live this side of the Ashley River watch with anticipation as we cross the old bridge, which has suffered badly from age in the last few years. I'm sure I'm not the only country dweller to count the new spans as they have been laid over the course of the year. Early in December the first beams of the tenth and final span were put in position. I toasted the bridge builders that night: they work in that exposed place through all the extremes of Canterbury weather and I understand that many of them work far from home. 

Here one of the beams for the final span is being moved into place.  Visible just left of centre is one of the big gates that were fixed at each end of the old bridge, to be shut when high water flows dictate that the bridge be closed.  Their presence is a constant reminder of the 25 minute detour we face when that happens.  Such is the flux of life - Earthquake recovery, bereavement recovery, bridge building... re-making your cobweb when it gets broken.

Four Years On

Time to take a break from an unbelievably busy week and remember Elwin.

He's been gone four years today (6th November). I miss him of course for all sorts of reasons, but having moved beyond the regret; the crippling tiredness; the brain fog of bereavement, I can remember him now with a smile, with appreciation for the life he chose to lead with me.

 I can remember his laugh, and his antics

 

his sense of adventure... 

And what a good family man he was.

If he was still alive, well maybe the roof wouldn't leak, I wouldn't be so tired, and Kitty would have a companion astronomer, but maybe Bryony would never have become the singer she has, and I wouldn't have learned how to use an electric screw driver.

Photos from various family sources.

Daffodil Diary

September is on its way out and I haven't mentioned daffodils.

Should I? you might ask, especially if you live in the Northern Hemisphere, and don't realise that this blog is also my garden diary. The daffodils in this garden are earthquake survivors: strange but true. They have been well and truly shaken up and over the past two years have flowered very shyly. One group of bulbs that I had transplanted three years ago during the Earthquake cycle, didn't even surface last year. They are back this year but without flowers. It's hard to tell whether the profusion of leaf blades in all my daffodil groups, are new seedlings (the old bulbs having died) or are just the old bulbs recovering their vigour. The flower above was a rare treat this year. For the record these bulbs grow here in heavy silt loam, which becomes boggy in wet seasons and bakes hard in the dry.  The multi-headed, winter flowering daffodils, which I call jonquils, do not seem to have suffered at all.  What blooms there were are going over now, but there is no shortage of yellow in the Secret Garden as early spring fades into late... dandelions, yellow archangel, Forsythia and Kowhai all light up green and homely places.

Daffodils Narcissus spp

Kowhai Sophora tetraptera (also microphylla and garden varieties)

Getting Away

Time for a break, time for a night away in Kaikoura...

No prizes for guessing that it was to hang out with Morris dancing friends.

 Marlborough Fayre is a new and enthusiastic women's side with years of combined dancing experience, based in Blenheim. 

Nor' West Arch is one of two Morris sides in Christchurch.

Although Kitty and I arrived early on Saturday afternoon and the dancing finished roughly twenty four hours later, the gathering managed to cram a lot into the time, including a dance workshop, dinner together, and public displays in town, at Donegal House, the Whale Watch forecourt, and the always poignant and delightful, historic Fyffe House on its whalebone piles.

Of course I keep my gardener's eye open especially with spring enlivening the landscape. I spotted this odd pairing of cold climate flowering cherry harmonising with the bold spires of pride of Madeira, which thrives in frost free conditions all along the Canterbury coastline.

Before setting off for home, Kitty and I discovered this viewing wall protecting an information panel in South Bay. The whole structure, which included a toilet block, was very stylish and pleasing to the eye.

Rather than taking the two hour route home along State Highway 1, we made a longer detour inland via Mt Lyford, new territory for Kitty and me. When I was child, droves of sheep on the road were a common sight around North Canterbury, but as lowland farming has turned to wine, venison, and dairy production, it's rare for us to see a sight like this. The sheep were only one of the spectacles along this route, which is threaded with mountain streams, wide shingle river flats, and dramatic gorges carved out of loess and rock. The kind of country that you feel needs another visit... 

Flowering cherry Prunus sp
Pride of Madeira Echium candicans

Photo of sheep near Mt Lyford: Kitty Jamison