I have learned to accept, mostly, the marked turbulence of spring - tender new growth appears on plants, the days lengthen, there is more sunlight, even warmth - it feels expansive, the sap rises literally and metaphorically.  But the wind shifts, the temperature plummets, we hunker down again, seeking warmth, covering up and sheltering, a time for retreat and protection.  I used to rue the damage wrought by those winds - snapping the stems of tomato seedlings, bruising new leaves.  I rationalise, and it is mostly true, that those plants that survive are more likely to be resilient.  And I am more realistic about what I plant, when I plant, providing protection, and so on.  These weather patterns of turbulence and calm are quite like the patterns in our lives - periods of equilibrium and periods of disruption - and how we learn to respond and care for our plants are lessons we might apply to how we care for ourselves and all that is around us.  On the south coast there is a beauty in the impact of the storms...and a relief when, as today, the warmth and calm begin to return.

A couple contemplate the southerly swell from the rocky shore of Houghton Bay, on Wellingon's south coast, looking towards Taputeranga.  Life and the weather - times of turbulence and times of calm.  And beauty in all of it.