Oh how it rained in 83′, how it rained on the vagabond Godfrey. We were camped side by each at Quinney’s Bush, and that night round the picnic table he told me his story.
Twas camping alone he said, at lovely Bark Bay. Had a fine swim, ate a fish I had caught off the dock. In my tent sound asleep I was lifted, rather rudely in the air twice, and dropped hard. Look, see the bruise on my buttock!
…An earthquake I learned the next day, such is the way…of Mother Nature. In the park I encountered a very odd bird, rather a drab looking flightless hen. It fearlessly grabbed and ran off with my spoon- a Weka,it also snatched my only pen. Only a creator with profound sense of the absurd, would give us the Weka, her most whimsical bird.
I found the gulls here nasty and the Penguins rather dour, loved the rain bleached sheep, and the sun that shines even in a downpour. It gives in return rainbows , I pedaled hard once seeking the end of one. Did I find it? Yes I can tell you, at Waihi Beach, rainbow’s end was above the Gents loo..
Mother Nature shared with me dark mystery to. As I rode from my Lighthouse down the long beach of hard sand,used my kilt as a sail, gypsy tailwind at my back, out of the mist ahead loomed a beached whale,enormous it was, and black.
Some of the stories Godfrey kept to himself, private and deep was this one in the journal I gave him.(The blue one bound by hand) I can only visualize that lonely beach, and Godfrey kneeling by the great whale in the sand.
.”I stayed, he wrote at the whale’s side, until it’s last weak breath near dawn, I left this poem under a stone, by it’s head and with the outgoing tide pedaled on.
He wrote- When it”s Sunday and stormy and dark. In the midnight murmur of the surf. Remember for a moment we were one, you and I. Mother Nature in her mystery, lending shoulder and comfort to a grieving sky- Goodbye From Godfrey.