Enchantment.

I was on the top of Mouwntvick last night to watch saturn and venus set, though only venus showed up. I am still baffled. Perhaps we are missing a planet but know-one noes yet.

I toald the british photographer beside me about the planets.

Also there were yewniversity students putting treebranches down the cannon, and marvelling that it pointed straight at their campus.

There was actually quite a few people up there last night. The main streets lit up like arteries, glittering with lazy red, white, and orange blood cells.

This is over the airport.

And this is venus just above the horizon.

I goed for a walk last night for fun; since I started werk a month ago I have got enough fresh air and exercise lugging skeletons and boxes of chromates and sulfates across the playground, and so have not had to seek it out deliberately.

Eye went to the balcony at the top of the cable car and gazed; and eye continued on down through the gardens past the open door of the scout hall, out of which proceeded voicy echoes off wooden floors and that dusty hall smell and boys in shorts with large tree boughs.

Eye saw so much and took so many photos, and got waylaid in Bolton Street Cemetary again (will eye ever stop photographing it?).

In deep Wellingtown the streets begin to smell like food and the supermarket is full of suited people released from work.

from the kitchen window at night

i can see a red light blinking in the small gap between top stories of the houses across the road

it is the top of mt victoria

and is the same level as me

on the other side of the valley which holds an entire CBD

from the dining room window in the day

set at ninety degrees to the kitchen ones

i can see shreds of snow still on the tops of the tararua's

if i open the door, the vernal winds will dust the house for me.

I am enjoying seeing the schoolgirls with thick glasses who walk home slowly while reading novels.

I am enjoying commuting to work outside the city on the empty side of the motorway, against the opposing lanes of gridlocked cars to the soundtrack of radio narrating the congestion of each particular offramp.

But while I presently realize that I am chasing shadows, soon I shall fall under the spell again and wake in a thousand years a thousand miles away and my clothes will still be clean and pressed, just in time for me to roll over and die of old age.

The death metal has returned and I hope my flatmates do not mind.