for almost a year i've been carrying around a postcard of wharariki. richard gave it to me when i left. i've covered so many miles, been to several countries, cities and states. i've been on the road, off the grid, on and off the map, and in each spot, wherever i am, i put this postcard by my bed. no matter where i am or what i'm doing, everytime i look at this picture and it flips my guts and flutters my heart. i've been waiting for so long to return to this one small beach.
and finally, finally after thousands of miles and two planes i reached the south island. and at last after a ride up the coast and a bus from kaikoura i reached the nelson region. and then after hauling my stuff at 5:45am in the rain to the bus stop and catching the damp shuttle van to matueka and transferring to an even smaller, damper shuttle i reached golden bay. and now, in collingwood, not even 45 km away; i'm stuck. i literally cannot go any further - the roads have flooded.
so i get a cheap room and i hide out from the downpour with clean sheets and chekhov and i put this damn postcard up one more time; and my guts twist and my heart screams at it's nearness and i think, 'ive waited this long, what is just. one. more. day?'
"in her imagination life stretched before her, a new, vast, infinitely spacious life, and this life, though still obscure and full of mysteries, lured and atrracted her." - chekhov