“I was standing knee deep in the sea”, recalled Godfrey. “I was casting for snapper off the rocks the East side of Waiheke. Dawn did not slide in quiet, did not gently unfold. The sun rose orange, stretched across the horizon, the surf was roily, and the clouds above me were washed in gold.
..I recall a letter written by a dear friend, camping out on a winter night long ago. She wrote; “Dear Godfrey I am snug in my tent, neath the purple blanket you sent me, I love this life so..Getting up on a snowy morning, hauling wood and water, I tell myself “Peace Woman be bold” Soon springtime will cast her green spell oer’ the common, the gorse and the oak woods will be washed in gold.
When I first met Worzel, said Godfrey; her dad dragged me outside, “Said duck-hunting may make a man out of you” Soon I found myself, weapon in hand, with two smelly dogs in the back of a truck, en route to the slough. The evening chill, crept rude up my kilt, icy water invaded my gumboot cold. I stood in awe as the ducks passed over us, where the stubble fields of autumn were washed in gold.
Beatrice writes- He never spoke of that day on the highway, when Godfrey at sixteen set out to roam, that is until one of our late night chats, those sad, sweet days we shared when he came home. “Beatrice, he recalled, “I only looked back, that once in farewell as I do not believe in goodbye. I carried it with me as my own, never told, how the sunshine that day filtered down through the Rowan, and washed you, my friend in gold..
And the 35th Wisdom Of Godfrey states- Youth will never fall from the sky at your feet- oh but do not believe all that you are told. Turn over the most unlikely stone, you may find what lies under it has been washed in gold…Thank you from Godfrey.