step back
pacific drapes

I've returned to a land where plants grow upon plants. Bark begets green. Green begets weeds that are worth it.

green weeds blooming in a tree gap

Bark is always worth looking at, to think how far a seed's travelled, like a fat salmon, panting upstream, spreading out.

tree reaching for the beach

The coiled, silver branches have me considering the edge of my known world, particularly when they spring from the wall and reach for the water.

beach tree covering a wall

This is a corner of our globe governed by inlets and coves.

silver trees on a headland overlooking mud water

I picture Polynesian tattoos, see them as extensions of patterned bark, infinite ferns, and the curling waves that carried men from island to island. The palms and the canoes and the Pacific surf and people atop the surface, riding the surfaces of the earth, all bound together, patterns upon patterns, fashioning each other, growing at different speeds but tracing the same directional curve.

green tipped trees going vertical as they can

Form builds upon beautiful forms. Solidity and sand and eager growth.

tree bursting from a sea wall

A hay pile looking like a Nepalese yak, moody and overspilling its bounds. I can't remember if a bird appeared in the photo before or after this shot, or whether it's hidden somewhere in the frame.

hay pile looking like a Nepalese yak

Elsewhere, red pillows of chaff hanging from trees like body bags happy to be there.

red chaff hanging from trees

One bush, a constellation of green clots, angular scaffolding, not curved as you might expect from a plant.

strange green clotted bush, branches at right angles to one another

But ultimately, all growth is a sky-turned thing.

glorious trees near the coastline

Even the growth we can't see aspires upwards, whichever direction it moves.

Herne Bay, Auckland 121022