Ah, the bliss. We have been having such beautiful weather for the past week. Every morning presents like an immaculately wrapped gift. Arising at 6.30 or 7am is no chore as I open the curtains and am blinded by the sunlight and bright blue sky. I love these days. They hold such promise. What will we do today? Quick, let’s get ready and get out there!

Saturday 2 January was a cracker of a day. I even beat Charlie out of bed to get ready and prepared for a morning walk with mum. It was already so hot outside at 8am we thought it

best we get moving before it reached the forecast high of 33 degrees.

We did one of the ‘regular’ walks, leaving mum’s place and heading down towards the Heathcote River. On the way we critique the various weatherboard villas we pass, some restored, some not, as well as the gardens. When we reach the river, we walk the little track that meanders beside it and I feel warm inside as I am reminded that walkers greet each other as they pass in opposite directions. Yes, I remember this now. Elderly couples holding hands, athletic mothers with three wheeler buggies, guys taking their dogs out for a splash in the Heathcote.

We were exhausted and wilting upon our return home, so had an hour’s downtime before Caleb and Nicki came over for lunch, after which we went in to the centre of town to the Botanic Gardens to feed the ducks and do some more walking in the salubrious surroundings. We might as well have been in the Piazza San Marco for the mobbing we got by the ducks. The above photo really doesn’t represent the scene properly. If there was such a thing as a ‘swarm’ of ducks this would’ve been it.

I never thought I’d be frightened of as benign a creature as a duck, but as they surrounded me and encroached ever increasingly on my personal space I did start to feel a bit creeped out, especially as their cold and damp webbed feet started clambering over my havaiana clad tootsies! The Botanical Gardens are huge, encompassing 79 acres, and were established by the founding fathers of Christchurch who brought with them the gardening traditions of their homeland.

Only 13 years since the pioneers arrived in the swampy, grassy wetlands of Christchurch, the first English oak was planted within the gardens in 1863. This was to commemorate the marriage of Queen Victoria’s eldest son, Prince Albert Edward. Many of the huge old trees were shipped from England, and after a sea voyage of six months, plunged into the surrounding river Avon to revive.

Once our leisurely stroll around the Gardens came to an end we crossed the road to the old Gothic university, now the Arts Centre, and revived ourselves with sparkling Elderflower juice.

The photo below is an installation in one of the old campus’s quadrangles. It’s made out of steel and is suspended by wires that attach it to the surrounding buildings. It always makes me happy for some reason.