It's all around me. Stepping off the plane at Christchurch, I'm nearly knocked over by the warm moist air, sweet with the scent of fresh cut grass. Every breath tests my lung capacity.
Later that night, walking the streets to the pub & eatery, I can't help but stare at the unfamiliar faces. So strange to be anonymous once more. Flashing lights, cars, children, dogs, trees - bushes - and grass!
Sipping draft beer on the patio, crowded around a small table, we take turns looking up at the night sky... mesmerized. Bermie suggests we take a moonlit walk through the nearby botanical gardens. Eight of us, pints of beer in hand, wander the lush botanic gardens in a dreamlike state. We reach up and touch low hanging branches...
In the rose garden, I slip out of my sandals and feel the soft grass under my bare feet.
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