Pandemic Poetry–2021 edition, #7

garden
Yesterday’s accomplishment–a relatively weed-free winter garden.

This poem was inspired by how little writing I got done yesterday. The weather was so beautiful, the day required three walks and four hours working in the garden. The garden’s looking great, but I do need to try to focus more today.

Hot Desking at Home

Who gets the desk?
The dining room table?
I’ll take a window whenever I’m able.

Who’s got a meeting
And needs a closed door?
Maybe I can work here on the floor.

Who’s making coffee
At quarter to nine?
I’d like milk and sugar in mine.

Who’s going out
For a short walk?
I’ll come along, we’ll have a nice talk.

Who’s having lunch
Just before noon?
I’ll finish this meeting and be there soon.

Who took their laptop
Out in the sun?
A few more pages and then I’ll be done.

Who’s gotten nothing
Accomplished all day?
I thought we’d do better working this way.

Pandemic Poetry–2021 edition, #6

It’s a gorgeous day here. I intend to take full advantage of lockdown and spend my afternoon in the garden. 

I thought I’d play around with different poetry styles this week, since Friday is National Poetry Day. Today’s is a Dansa. The Dansa structure: the first stanza is 5 lines, with the last line a repeat of line 1, and the rhyme pattern AbbaA; subsequent stanzas are 4-lines long, with the first line repeated as the last line of each stanza, with the rhyme sequence bbaA. 

Work together by staying apart.
Free from our bubbles for nearly a year
Spared the worry, sickness and fear
That gripped the world right from the start
Work together by staying apart.

Vaccinate is what we must do
Because this thing is more than the flu.
Protect the ones dear to your heart.
Work together by staying apart.

Wear a mask whenever you’re out.
Stay home if you can, and please don’t flout
The rules, ‘cause they’ll work if we all do our part.
Work together by staying apart.

Have fun with your bubble
Though the kids give you trouble.
Bake a cake, some bread, or a tart.
Work together by staying apart.

Walk the dog, play a game
Read a book, try to tame

A pet dragon, throw a ball or some darts.
Work together by staying apart.

Pandemic Poetry–2021 Edition, #5

daffodils in bud
Spring blooms are on their way!

In spite of lockdown, spring continues to show itself. Daffodils are blooming, and tree buds are swelling. I spent yesterday morning planting vegetable seeds, kicking off my gardening season for the year. So life is not all bad, stuck here at home with plants to tend.

The northwest wind cries Spring!
And the magpies, they all start to sing.
It’s hard to be sad
And think everything’s bad,
When nature is having a fling.

Pandemic Poetry–Part 2, #4

Baking time!

With 11 new cases in one day, and the virus spreading outside of Auckland, we knew what yesterday’s announcement from the prime minister would be. My only surprise was how short the initial extension was. I don’t think any of us really expects to be out of lockdown in less than a week.

Stay safe everyone. Wear your mask and wash your hands!

Three days locked down aren’t enough.
to crush that new virus is tough.
Spend a few days more
Behind your closed door
’Til the virus runs off in a huff.

Pandemic Poetry–2021 edition, #3

cat with ball on its head
We are not amused.

It’s only day 3 of lockdown and the cat is already over it. He’s annoyed that my daughter is sleeping in his bed, and I’m sitting in his chair. We’re disturbing his routine.

The cat wonders
why we are here
in his space.

Don’t you have
somewhere to go?

Go out! Go out!
the dog barks.
Go out for a walk!

The cat flicks his tail
and shows us the door.

Pandemic Poetry–2021 edition, day 2

unicorn pool toy
Photo by James Lee on Unsplash

Yesterday’s writing went poorly, as I might have expected. But the weather was crisp, and our lockdown walk was a highlight of the day. 

Kia kaha New Zealand. Our bodies may be stuck at home, but our imagination doesn’t need to be.

A lockdown walk
Is a great time to talk
Of fantasy, fiction and fun.

If you had useless powers
What would they be?
Where would you go
If travel were free?

If the cat could speak
What would he say?
What would you do as
PM for a day?

If the sky were pink
And unicorns flew
Over lollipop meadows
Could you ride on them too?

If your body was stuck,
As surely it is,
In a physical rut
With your mind in a fizz,

Could you picture a world
Full of magic and light
Where your spirit could soar
On the wings of a kite?

Pandemic Poetry–2021 Edition

cat lying on a book
The cat illustrating proper lockdown behaviour.

I had a different blog post planned for today, but at 6:20 pm yesterday, the prime minister announced we were entering lockdown today. A case of Covid was detected in the community and, as it is suspected to be the Delta variant, the entire country is locked down.

So here we are again. I am thankfully no longer living in a shed, and there’s no longer a builder’s fence along our front boundary, but this morning I made sure there was a poem posted out front. 

Kia kaha everyone. Stay safe, wear a mask, and wash your hands!

We knew it might happen,
this déjà vu.
With Delta running rampant
our options were few.

We sigh, we might grumble.
It’s surely a pain
To be stuck here in lockdown,
in bubbles again.

But the reasons are sound and
the goal is quite clear.
We’ve enjoyed some rare freedom
for over a year.

If we can hold back the virus
a little while longer,
Roll out those vaccines
so the whole nation’s stronger,

We might just escape
the tragic events—
The overworked nurses
and hospital tents—

That much of the world
has suffered this year
As Delta’s roamed widely,
spreading sickness and fear.

So take a long walk,
join that meeting online,
Just hang with your bubble.
It’ll all turn out fine.

Cauliflower Power

head of cauliflower

A while back, I was searching online for something new to do with cauliflower for dinner. I found plenty of recipes, and nearly every one of them went on and on about how few carbs or calories cauliflower has.

Some of the photos looked delicious, and I’m sure most of the recipes are. But I was so turned off by the low calorie/low carb drumbeat, I lost my appetite.

I love cauliflower. But I love it for its sweet, nutty flavour. I love it for its crunch and the way it breaks into pretty little florets. I love it for its ability to grow year-round here and provide fresh, local produce even in the depths of winter. 

I don’t love it for its lack of carbs and low calorie count. Eating it for those reasons diminishes its value, reduces it to the sum of what it lacks. Here in Aotearoa, you might say it reduces its mana—its spiritual power or strength.

That’s no way to treat food.

I grow vegetables and purchase foods on the basis of what they are, not what they aren’t. Flavour, texture, nutrient content, protein content, and yes, those wonderful starches as well. Even colour is important. My family eats a glorious mix of richly flavoured and textured foods that nourish and satisfy. We celebrate what we eat, because food is what gives us life.

Maybe I’m prejudiced against the relentless messages telling us we must count calories and watch our weight. Raising an anorexic child will do that to you. But my discomfort runs deeper than that, because the focus on calories and carbs speaks to a real disconnect between people and the plants that sustain them. And I can’t help but think that disconnect exacerbates the growing incidence of obesity in modern society.

Counting calories and carbs reduces food to fuel—pump it in, make sure you don’t overfill the tank.

But food is part of our social network, our cultural history, our daily routines. It’s a way to show love and to care for one another. It is part of who we are as humans. And when we acknowledge that, we find ourselves not wolfing down some prepackaged insta-meal while scrolling on our phones, but taking time to make a meal and share it with others. We find ourselves gravitating to foods that make us feel good—foods that nourish our emotions as well as our bodies. We find ourselves reaching back to our ancestors for foods that define who we are.

And we forget about carbs and calories and learn instead to love food for what it provides, not what it withholds.

Sun’s Return

It’s only a few weeks past the solstice. Nights are below freezing, and the worst of winter is still to come. In shady spots the frost lingers all day.

Spinach seedlings in the greenhouse
Spinach seedlings in the greenhouse

But plants are already responding to the increase in sunlight. There is a haze of new green growth in the chickens’ winter-bare paddock, daffodils are poking their shoots out of the flower beds, and the grass will soon need to be mown.

In the greenhouse, the lettuce and spinach seedlings that have been sitting there unchanging for weeks have finally begun growing again. The broccoli in the winter garden has begun thinking about heading up (at least until yesterday when the chickens got in there and stripped the leaves).

I too have responded to the sun. I’ve drawn my garden map for the upcoming season. I’ve assessed my seed needs in preparation for the arrival of the new year’s seed catalogue. I’ve nearly completed incorporating manure into the entire vegetable garden.

The weeks will go quickly. Before I know it, it will be time to start seeds, mark out garden beds and spread compost. Now is the time I should be buckling down to complete winter tasks—sewing, organising, cleaning … But like the plants stretching out their tentative leaves, I can’t help but respond to the sun, reaching for spring and looking forward to the new season to come.

Nature Red in Tooth and Claw

Photo: Eric Weiss

It’s not often you witness outright thuggery in nature. Predators hunt prey—they have to, because otherwise they starve. Predation is never pretty, but it is what it is. 

Sitting at my desk, procrastinating … er … writing this morning, I saw brutality, pure and simple. 

A pair of magpies was chasing a starling. They caught it and brought it to the ground. Standing over it, they pecked at its eyes. At first, I thought they were trying to kill and eat it. But after a few minutes, they got bored. The starling managed to fly off. The magpies followed, caught it and brought it back, only to repeat the eye pecking routine. Three times while I watched, they allowed the starling to escape, then brought it back to peck at it. Always at the eyes.

Eventually, they bored of the sport. They wandered away from the hapless starling to forage in the lawn nearby. After a few minutes, starling and magpies flew off in opposite directions.

I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise. Australian magpies have a reputation as aggressive, intelligent birds that like to play. They brazenly steal food from the chickens, fighting right back when a chicken lunges at them. And I’ve watched as gangs of juvenile magpies have tormented my cat, swooping low over him as a team, trying to get a peck in while he swats at them. And I’ve been on the receiving end of magpie parents defending their nests with noisy dives at my head.

In general, magpies eat invertebrates—they were originally introduced to New Zealand to help control crop pests. Research on their effects on native birds indicates they only rarely kill other birds, and their aggressive pursuit of larger predators like harriers may even provide some protection to smaller birds.

Still, I can’t help thinking magpies are the bullies of the playground. They’re fine as long as you’re not their target. Fascinating for me as an armchair naturalist, but I’m thankful I’m not a small songbird.