Moving omens

I am sitting at my little desk looking out my study window at Kapiti Island. All around me there is the bedlam of work—powertools, fellas talking to one another, the soft hum of sanding, and the sweet tones of the builders singing the best of the 70s, 80s, and 90s from the static-y radio. And, when all that stops for one precious second—or really, even if any part of it stops, the rhythm is kept by the sea beating on the shore. We saw this house more than a year ago, bought it eight months ago, and tonight we’ll sleep in it for the first time. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up from this dream and find myself in a hotel somewhere with a view of a brick wall and the throbbing noise of a heat pump. I seem to be awake, though.

Yesterday—when most of our furniture moved in (but no people because no water yet)—had the most auspicious beginning imaginable. Michael and I went for our morning dog walk along the beach, laying out the plans for the friends who were about to show up on our doorstep, and I saw something right out of my flield of vision. The sea was a flat silver, reflecting the flat silver of the clouds and the still of the air. And, puncturing the smoothness, flashes of black fins: a pod of dolphins just off the shore. My breath caught and I was suddenly breathless. “Oh look!” was all I could manage. We stood, these dolphins so close to us, dozens of them swimming, spread from the beach to Kapiti island.

When I see something as spectacular as that, the first thing I want to do is share it. I grabbed a cell phone and called Naomi and Aidan at home and told them to come down to the beach. They raced out in their PJs and bear feet, and we stood, hugging them against the chill in the morning, as the dolphins swam south. When they were south enough, I called Carolyn (who lives at the south side of the village for the next couple of days before she moves into Ocean Road). She grabbed her family and went out to stand at the beach and watch the dolphins swimming away.

It was moving day, and a school morning, so we left before the dolphins were out of sight. We walked past a woman rushing to the train, and I told her about the dolphins. She turned and sighed: there’s no time this morning, I’ll miss the train, etc. Aidan and I followed her regretful back towards the house before I realized that Hey, I don’t have a train to catch. The whole point of living in New Zealand is to spend less time rushing from place to place and more time BEING in place. We walked back down to the beach and cuddled and looked as hard as we could until the last dolphin was out of sight. We had to rush when we got home to be on time for school, but who really cared, anyway?

And that was the beginning of moving day, a day that left us grouchy and sleeping in our old beds in our old house, but which led to me writing this in bliss right now. Soon my cousin Mike gets here. Since having no family here is nearly the only cloud on the horizon (and, watching the sea like this, it’s a long horizon), Mike comes to blow the clouds away a little.

Love to all. Pictures coming soon!