He did not stop often at the small country pubs,no joy in alcohol Godfrey had, but this day in Totara North he did, and the barmaid yelled as he entered, OY LAD, Across the road in the paddocks a lemon tree, I’ve a pail of oysters fresh, can you run and pick an armful of lemons for me?? How he loved times like this, loved the free life did the vagabond Godfrey.

Steep are the hills there, mysterious the pinnacles of stone. At the end of the pier he sits alone, with his feet in the deep green harbor  waters,and so I joined him there, he said “I like how it feels to just sit” I think of an old friend, a fish lady’s daughter, its as lovely here as she was, this deep green harbor water.

I shall climb high he told me, to explore those stones,there is adventure round that distant point, heading out to open sea. I pedaled the flat road, bending round the mangroves, the hot summer wind brought the scent of salt and tea tree. Daphne at the pub told me, “We live off our gardens ,the harbor and the sea”.

We ate oysters off the rocks she picked at low tide, raw oysters with the fresh wild lemon I brought her. We talked the time away, as the sun set boysenberry, and cast gold over the deep green harbor water.  He sits alone at the end of the pier, says “I hope to catch a fine fish, I try not to think of the eels in here”. Fishing line cast out, feet in the sea, how he loved the free life did the vagabond Godfrey…


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