I was rudely awakened in the early hours of yesterday morning by an earthquake. The epicentre was some way off but here on the sand and with a house built on a concrete slab, it was noticeable. It reminded me once again how, despite our best efforts to build a secure home life, everything can change in an instant. It brings into perspective that most of what we think are disasters are merely annoying and that nothing we do can withstand the forces of nature . . . wind and rain will triumph.
Recently I created some maṇḍala out of shells, raised a tepee of flax/harakeke stalks weighted down in the centre with a net-covered stone that weighs about 7 kg or 15.5 pound. I thought it would be strong enough to withstand the wind and rain until the flax stalks gave in to time.
Local stones, triangle shells/kaikaikaroro, horse mussels/hoemoana and flax/harakeke flower stalks.
One night the winds came in from the sea and moved the lot . . . again! Some of the horse mussel/hoemoana shells and feather have since blown away as well.
So what do I do now? Plan C, it’s idiocy to repeat plan A or B. I need to splay the ‘legs’ out further, secure them to the ground (tent pegs perhaps) and bring the apex of the structure closer to the ground and replace the hoemoana shells with stones.
Hardly an earth-shattering disaster, nothing of that magnitude (puns intended), just annoying because I expected it to last the summer . . . when it gets here.
late start studio 
I know what you mean. We have moved to Nelson from Christchurch, knowing there is a fault line here too, and where isn’t there one in NZ anyhow? I am still jumping if there is a sudden bang, rumble or sometimes the noise of a wind gust. Not all the time, just every now and then, but often enough to feel a bit aware that things can change in a big way at any moment. Not a good way to be while trying to make plans!
A while back there was a tsunami warning here and we had about 6 hours before it would be confirmed . . . plenty of time to decide what to take. It put everything in perspective. All I put in the car were some warm clothes, photos on discs and my computer. Fortunately it didn’t come to anything but it has affected how I think every since. By the way, my first attempt at growing up was in Sumner and my father’s shop is not longer standing.
nature has her own design. ha
Yes, and fortunately more benevolent than not . . . Nature puts us in our place as being merely part of her.