Day 52 | Wilroy Nature Reserve: raining or a cloudless sky, who can predict

43 km | zzOz total: 2,614 km

Out on the road again, after a few weeks I find I’ve re-established a few routines.

The obvious: breakfast/packup/setup/dinner/write is just the rhythm of any day, broken by towns, weather and not much else, maybe the odd distraction, like a chat with a local, or a rock to climb.

That’s the standard diurnal cycle, relatively predictable.

It’s clear there is also a weekly cycle, with a different consistency.

Saturday morning there’s Geraldine, at least for the last 10 years, then the Music Show, this week 20 minutes of Randy Newman, I’m sure he died years ago but that might have been Warren Zevon, discussing and playing bits of his songs live, later an hour on why Ravel was widely imitated but not generally respected: he didn’t push himself.

I also often dream about wandering the Nelson market on Saturday morning, and also my future partner I’ll probably find there, well, you never know.

Sunday is a little different, the pickings are more impoverished, today I had half an hour of a sceptical Lenny Henry, What’s so good about Bob Dylan? which necessitates some time with Blood on the Tracks and the more recent Modern Times. I quite like his blend of uncomplicated melody and dense lyrics, the ability to paint a clear image while leaving 90% out. As for the voice and harmonica, well, I guess he’s saying, this is me, the real me, loud and proud, then again an hour or so is sufficient to satisfy my curiosity.

And if that isn’t enough American singer for the day I don’t mind a little Karrin Allyson, maybe as an antidote. There’s something about the lyrics of, say, All or Nothing at All that takes me back to other shared Sunday mornings, not the songs or singer, which were unknown at the time, but the sentiment.

Other Sunday mornings it’s generally one of the few classical albums I have stashed in that little iPod, some Haydn String Quartet, Liszt, or if some grandeur is needed, what about some Mahler.

Yes, I too prefer the weekends, less politics, which has been slowly sinking to unimaginable depths, aren’t they supposed to set some sort of example to our kids, and instead just some simple stimuli to allow my mind to drift and dream within that relentless daily routine.