Turbulence

Since yesterday's blip I have said farewell to my Christchurch friends; flown to Auckland; been collected from the airport by my nephew on the eve of his 21st birthday; enjoyed a family party; slept four hours; put round my neck a Maori greenstone spiritual guardian, generously given to me by my brother and sister-in-law to protect me on my travels; flown to Brisbane and then to Cairns. I guess it's not surprising that I now feel cast adrift in a time zone where I don't belong.

In Brisbane I'd planned to spend my seven-hour stopover in town. Instead - pathetic truth - I watched seven hours of rain running down the airport windows refracting multiple shades of grey (phrase reclamation) and mused on family and distances.

On the flight to tropical, humid Cairns we first rose above the turbulent weather then descended to fly between two layers of cloud versions of volcanos and tornados. I saw a rainbow from above then, as we flew towards a place where the sun sets earlier, watched the dramatically disappearing light.