In search of snow

Sunday 7.30pm

Our youngest, the seven year old, has been missing snow since we left Northumberland, and Nicola and I have had an urge to visit some mountains lately, so today off we went. In true explorer style, after gazing blankly at a roadmap we went out the front door, got in the car, drove to the end of the road, had a look at where the mountains had snow on, and drove in that direction. Stopped at New World supermarket for emergency rations - crisps, cheese, chocolate and coke then off again. Three quarters of an hour later and we are close. The road is now just gravel and scarily narrow, and we have not seen another car for ages. We stop, Nicola wants to take another picture. I get out of the car and in spite of my youngest indulging in his latest hobby - shouting at sheep, what strikes me is the silence. Yes, there are the birds and a light wind but no cars, no music, no people. We are close, I can smell it, feel it on the air, this is where I need to be just now. We continue. Through gates and a field of sheep and just as the road becomes a mere scrape in the ground it ends in a small group of parked cars. The forest trails begin here and we must walk. Mind you we might as well have been wearing miniskirts and red stillettos, such was the appropriateness of our clothing compared with the trampers coming towards us. But they are very friendly, this is New Zealand after all, saying hello and yes it is only ten minutes to the first hut so we go that far. There is no snow, we are still too low, but it is all worth it. I love the quiet places, in the countryside, and in my mind, and here both come together. I have arrived.

Sometimes everything just comes together just right.