FSO–Fresh

This Friday our theme is Fresh. “New to one's experience; not encountered before. Recently made, produced, or harvested; Free from impurity or pollution; pure. Many choices here for fresh.” 

All my shots were taken last weekend in places I have never visited before, or not for a very long time.  Nearly all of them are taken on or near beaches while enjoying the brisk, fresh air.  I think they are all pure, unspoiled.

The Far North of New Zealand is very narrow, a quick drive from one coast to the other.  First up, a little mountain of froth blown from the wild surf on the west coast.

 And the pretty coloured kelp of the west coast freshly washed up from the sea.


 On the east coast the kelp was more the colour I see more often:


 Bit of wood very recently left by the tide on the east coast:


 More wood freshly delivered by the sea on the west coast.  I thought this looked like a little abandoned ship.


 East coast baby mussels:

 West coast weed peeking through pine needles:

Don’t know if this is a flower or a weed but it was growing wild on the east coast.  Chris knew it as Pink Sour Grass as a child in Western Australia.

 Heading for home again we decided on a little detour to revisit St Barnabas Church at Peria.  A year ago when we last called in it was in a very sorry state and two dedicated parishioners were taking down the fittings in preparation for a make-over.  Look what a difference a fresh coat of paint has made:

 Last stop on the way home, fresh coffee in Kawakawa.

Unexpected pleasures

I went for a long walk this morning to ease the kinks out of my back (the price of spending two days at the sewing machine) and noticed how pretty the weeds are at this time of year. So this afternoon when Georgia and I went for a walk, I made sure the camera came with us.

Down by the creek was an unexpected pleasure. The dairy herd was in a paddock beside the creek but a number of them had walked out of there and were grazing along the banks of the creek.

They looked so lovely amongst the long grass.

It’s an environmental ‘no, no’ these days but my dog wouldn’t know how to chase a cow to put them back in the paddock and I decided I would enjoy the sight, as, who knows, I may never see it again.

Once one cow does something, all the others usually want to get in on the act and before long lots of them were leaving their paddock and going for a wander down along the creek.

I think they were also attracted to the sound of our voices.

Krystal, Shayde and their little friend, Jessica came looking for us and we all went walking up the little side stream that comes down out of the mountains.

Another unexpected pleasure - the girls discovered a water hole deep enough to swim in.

And in they went, clothes and all!

By the time I convinced them that they had been swimming long enough the cows had been retrieved from their paddock (and the creek) and were making their way to the cow shed for milking.

And now the bottoms of my feet are sore from walking along the stoney bottomed creek.

But that’s a small price to pay for the pleasures of the day.