︎︎︎ The Oats

There’s a river moving at the bottom of these frames; The Avon River / Ōtākaro. Above it there’s a bridge and a road, cars on the road. Highly visible workers in green on the pavement, rolling white paint over the latest empire, graffitied in black on a temporary white wall. Behind the wall are more workers, fluorescent shades, shifting earth, recycled mountains, laying foundations for what will be the new fire station. Around this project are trees, swaying through the seasons, bare in Winter and then flickering green in Spring as the building takes shape. Above the tree line are hills, the Port Hills, “Castle Rock...” my Dad said, looking out the window, “...or what’s left of it,” 

I asked a rock what it did the other day and the ground shook.