RETURN TO THE RIVER

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Drastic measures were needed after the Diabetes diagnosis, requiring a step up in the pace of counting steps with the Fitbit.

Forgoing the little dog’s riverside walks, we strode it out on the easier going forest tracks for a couple of weeks.

Nature’s weird weather this year, hardly any spring, summer or autumn and buckets of endless rain to endure, also made the riverside walk impossible.

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One torrential downpour flooded the river which poured over its banks, turning the road alongside into a ducks only highway, lol.

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On our return to the river after it subsided, I was anxiously looking to see if the shy little bunny living under a flax bush at the river’s edge had survived.

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It was a relief when I spotted him, sitting up large as life, sunning and washing himself after having his house submerged for days.

Today, I saw him dangerously racing up the center line of the road, moving house to a nearby park.

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Somehow, these two are sleeping in the rain.

A hedgehog snuffling along the river, had the pooch baffled, and quickly rolled into a ball when he sensed he was being given a sniffing over.

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During the recent school holidays, a little boat turned up, mooring in a small inlet and hitching a rope to a nearby lamppost.

Two young males living on board used a small canoe to paddle to and fro and spent their holiday, sunning in deck chairs on the riverbank, fishing.

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Currently, we are again avoiding the river, as an awful pall of silence has descended on the whole area.

The only sounds to be heard are the ear piercing cracks of gunshots, like sonic booms, morning and night.

All the duck, pukeko, and black swan, families, I watched from the weeds thru the lens, matching, hatching, and nurturing their young, rushing them to safety when needed, are now target practice.

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For the next three months it is Duck shooting season.

These three men, with three guns, in a boat, are heading up river to wreck havoc, dispatching my bird families.

Killing helpless critters is supposed to be sport.

It took the birds a few days to catch on and now they’ve gone elsewhere, hopefully safer, than our town river.

Like the bird lives living on the river, our lives also go through seasons of peace and turmoil.

God, through Solomon in Ecclesiastes, put it like this. NIV Bible.

For everything there is a season.

    A time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
    A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
    A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
    A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
    A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
    A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
    A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
    A time for war and a time for peace.

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Good times and challenging are to be expected, yet through them all, if we put our faith, hope and trust in our Heavenly Father, he has promised to,

‘never leave us or forsake us’.

God Bless Coral.

 

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