New Zealand is for the Birds

New Zealand is for the birds. It's true. I'm not talking about the crap weather or how the man who renewed my visa wore an 'I heart beer' t-shirt. I'm not talking about how no one wears shoes or the way everyone gives each other their bank account numbers. I'm talking about actual birds.

I've never really paid too much attention to birds. Years ago, Val and I made a list of dealbreakers (things we wouldn't tolerate in potential partners). Birdwatching was somewhere in the top ten. I vaguely remember the reasoning was that someone who would sit around waiting for a bird to fly by was not the kind of proactive go-getter we were looking for.

Birdwatching in New Zealand is different. There is no waiting. They are everywhere. Once upon a time they ran the place. Our new apartment is near a big park and a wildlife sanctuary. As a result, there are lots of really cool birds around.

This is a tui call.

The Girl with the Bicycle

It's a Sunday morning in Wellington, a girl wipes the morning dew off her bike seat. She rides through a tunnel and down a hill into town. The girl has a blue backpack and stops at the market to fill it with the last of the summer's peaches, a cucumber and a carrot. The girl knows that putting off the uphill ride home by stopping for a coffee won't make the trek any easier but she ducks into a cafe anyway. The man at the hissing coffee machine empties the old grinds with a thunk and clinks the cups as the girl sits down. The man with striped sweater at the next table gets up to leave. He leaves his newspaper on the round wooden seat. The girl with the bicycle and the backpack full of peaches picks it up and reads while she drinks her coffee. A page from the arts section is mixed in with the world news. The girl notices the bestseller lists. Three of the top five have very similar titles. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl who Kicked the Hornets Nest, and The Girl who something else that she girl with the coffee has never heard of. Couldn't they think of a better title? she wonders.

Eyeing Chocolate

Sometimes you can't help it, and you just laugh out loud. Later, you wonder if you should've somehow restrained yourself. It happened today in line at the Four Square. A man with a seeing eye dog at was buying milk and orange juice. While he was counting out the change, his dog grabbed a chocolate bar off the display and started tearing into the wrapper. I couldn't help but laugh. Not at the man, at the dog. It was like watching a clever child sneak one past her mom.

Then I remembered how distraught my mother had been recently when her dog got into some chocolate! Suddenly, I felt the urge to cover up my insensitive laughing with a little civic responsibility. I told the oblivious blind man that his dog had nicked a chocolate bar. He was very embarrassed. It was slightly uncomfortable.

Unfortunately the seeing eye dog etiquette web pages don't give any advice for situations involving a sneaky dog with sweet tooth. A friend of mine suggested that it might have been an act to get a free chocolate bars. What do you think?