Lynley Edmeades

Light Here, in fenceless New Zealand Sunday’s are for mowing lawns, long walks to the cafe for breakfast, brunch, where tea-strainers have been replaced by espresso machines and coffee judged by its topographical traceability. Retirees talk about climate change like it’s a memo on the fridge door. About e-books, they say things like: you’ve got… Continue reading Lynley Edmeades

Lynley Edmeades

La Strada Roads are never busy here – the further south you go, the less narrative you see. It’s autumn – going south means gold. A gold that will soon turn to just tree. I stop to visit an old friend, her new baby. Another place, a new couple – I drink wine and relish… Continue reading Lynley Edmeades