It takes Spring and a flood to get me cycling. How long had it been since I’d ridden my bike? Months. So much building work, travelling, teaching, deadlines. But now with the sun out after the flood and the whole valley tingling with energy – the sheep being shifted on Rough Ridge, the lucerne being […]
Sun, how missed in a country valley. It hasn’t been a year for wildflowers. The blue vipers bugloss straggled on through summer, but it’s the white yarrow now that dominates the verges as we cycle past. At a distance their massed planting are frothy and bright. Up close the flowers are delicate and airy. And […]
Rain and sun, rain and sun ad infinitum – a recipe for autumn and mushrooms. When I’d left the valley two weeks ago it was golden with drought, and now I’m back to a greenness so rich the lambs are belly deep in lucerne and my potato patch rejuvenated and flush with white flowers. Bartali […]
We are cycling through summer. In the paddocks the foggy grass and cocksfoot are tasselled and downy as wheat. Bartali and I head up Hills Creek Road, over the bridge the farmers patched up while waiting for the council. The evidence of flood still lies in the tangled branches in the fencelines, though below us […]
The Ida Burn is bank to bank again, snow melt and the rain that fell last night. We take our mountain bikes for a change, interested to check the state of the creeks, and head down the rail trail. Just out of the village there’s a pear tree in full white blossom. Its fragrance perfumes […]
Hail for a change, this spring morning. A friend rings and I leave the fire when the sky quietens and go outside to weed the lavender and bulbs while I talk to her. We discuss the coming protest about the big irrigation schemes in Canterbury. She’s unable to go; I will go for both of […]
Sleet moves in a swathe across my paddock towards the Dunstans. Bartali and I sit by my fire discussing the possibility of a bike ride in an hour, when we’ve both done some work. I’m reading Gaston Bachelard’s Poetics of Space (five years after building my strawbale house) for research for an essay. So much […]
There’s something in the air that has us looking around, thinking maybe the cold is almost over. “It must be spring,” I call across the road to Ken. He’s with his ute and dog outside the general store. “Yes, I was watching the birds flutter around the digger in my front paddock this morning. They […]
For the first time in weeks the land has dried out enough to ride my bike from the house to the road. The sky is grey though, and rain clouds coming up from the south. Time to get riding before the weather changes again. Contador and I settle into good pace up the valley. We […]
This morning the frost was so severe the pond froze. Small birds skittered on the surface and the resident paradise ducks were out pecking in the frozen grass. It‘s warm in the sun on the verandah, and lulled by that, I head off for a bike ride minus the second jacket, second pair of gloves […]
Jillian Sullivan writes fiction and non-fiction for children, teenagers and adults. Her work has been published for over twenty years and includes four novels, three collections of short stories and over sixty short stories for children and adults, published in New Zealand and America.
- Teaching memories America 2019 July 29, 2019
- Cycling Central Otago – Day 22: Late winter, Ida Valley July 29, 2019
- Cycling Central Otago – Day 21: Spring and Floods December 17, 2018
- Cycling Central Otago – Day 20: Hoar Frost June 5, 2018
- Cycling Central Otago – Day 19: Sun May 22, 2018
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