Back from the precipice

We're back from New Zealand - a week of inspiration, the wildness of the mountains and eating out with friends.

We arrived home late Sunday night - four days ago - and I had ideas about writing for you straight away - well, actually in New Zealand I was going to write.

But the experiences were so intense, and the week-off so treasured, that writing fell by the wayside except for a couple of particular times that sparked a rush of creativity.

And now that I'm back I'm just so exhausted. For three days now I've felt like I'm near the bottom of a low, needing lots of sleep, forgetting things, struggling to be organised. I feel overwhelmed with inspiration and don't know where to start, or what to do about it. Something as magnificent as this last week away in the mountains of NZ surely deserves poetry, accolades and a pedestal from which to shine. And I'm the one graced with the task of doing that.

So for now, I include the writing I did while away, with lots of lovely pictures for you to get a sense of the adventures we had.

Kepler Track

We're on the Kepler Track - walking, caring, growing. It hasn't been as we've expected but we are taking our challenges in our stride, working together and facing our own inner voices of doubt.

We've walked in the rain and the sun and the wind. We were greeted by a rainbow in Te Anau as we made our final preparations.

We walked, at the beginning, through a happy, magical forest full of ferns and tall, tall trees. At each turn I had visions of fairies or gnomes that might peak from behind a tree stump or appear from a hole beneath a bush. I thought of Rosie and how she would love this fairyland.

And now we've spent a day in a lovely mountain hut near Mount Luxmore. Our injured Mama has flown out via helicopter, leaving the three of us remaining to enjoy the day's solitude in an empty hut and the camaraderie of the evening's trampers.

We sit together, at the end of the communal kitchen area, where the windows are large and the jagged peaks across the lake call to us 'come and explore, take our photo'.

We make silly jokes and greet new trampers as they enter from their day walking in the rain.

We clean the kitchen for the ranger and light the fire in return for him letting us stay another night, since its now too late to continue and complete the walk.

Its quieter with three of us here together instead of four, but we have a good time anyway.

Are we richer for this experience? Most certainly I think. Through our challenges - different for us all - we have grown. For some the walk itself - the physical exertion of it - was the precipice of which they danced. For others is was the mental challenge of changing circumstances, time away from little ones and the sound of snoring in huts full of people.