clinging to the tree
A cold mid-winter day, and another walk towards the mouth of the mighty Whanganui River. Once a busy port with international callers, now just a sleepy backwater – although there are plans afoot to revive the port for inter-Island ferries. Remains of past glories are marked by rotting piers beloved by ducks and other birds.
on the mud flats
We walked along by the river again today. There were lots of houses, some posh, some not so posh – but this little crumbling cottage caught my eye. Looks like nothing, but there are signs of someone who calls this place home. Potted plants and a towel hanging by one peg on the line…
…no matter how humble there’s no place like home.