In forests of beech there is a sense of containment. Sound is held beneath the canopy, the light carefully filtered onto the fallen leaves, which themselves fall as light upon the wind. Although the soils beneath are poor and rocky, the moss is thick and the litter deep. There are places to walk underneath, and in the flats soft spaces to sleep. These are the faerie woods, purple-lolly mushroom woods (the death's cap and fly agaric belong to the pines, and like them are strangers: introduced. Pines, wilding across the high country or planted in rows upon the shaved hillsides, these are not woods I will discuss further, for there is no hope there).
The podocarp forests, like jungle, grow dense, with the the young below in wet dark nurseries and the elders far, far above. In many cases, the juveniles are so different as to be unrecognizable, perhaps a vestige of the eons they had to survive the browsing of moa. The foliage of those giants that survive into great age is lost in the heights, and so I know them mostly by their bark: the totara with its russet shag or peeling strips; the rimu's black, hard watermark; the hammer blows on the matai; kaihikatea buttresses twisting as they rise.
Tree ferns will grow anywhere there is wet and are the foundation of proper bush. They mix in easily, and seem to flourish in sun or shade as they advance out of the hollows. They do not have deep roots and make unreliable hand-holds; better to grab onto a supple lack on the way up or down.
The scrub forests of totara and kamahi are reminders of the time it takes to bring back the dying, but the fantails and tui do not mind them, so neither will I.
Up and down, forward and back, I pass through these in time.
Above the tree line the wind rules. The rain and sun and snow take their turns and the golden tussock holds fast against them all.
On the hilltop ridges in winter, I sing this waiata, which is also a karakia:
Whakataka te hau ki te uru
Whakataka te hau ki te tonga
Kia makinakina ki uta
Kia mataratara ki tai
E hi ake ana te atakura
He tio, he huka, he hauhunga
Tihei Mauriora (Haumi e. Hui e. Taiki e)
Prepare for the westerly and southerly winds, it will be cold on the land and the shore. May dawn rise red upon the ice, snow and frost.
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