I kayaked in a place as beautiful as any on earth. It was guided. We were picked up before dawn in a DOC (dept. of conservation) long term parking. We were driven in a van on a highway that only goes to milford sound and back, nowhere else. It's a 2 hour drive and the view is so spectacular that people forget their manners and stop in the middle of the road awed by the beauty. No kidding. I can't impress upon you the reality of this, it has to be seen. I have been tempered by months of beauty here in paradise, so that I could take it in without squealing and upsetting fellow passengers.

Once we arrived at our destination, we were given our 5 layers of clothing (the water is cold) and given a fisherman's backroom complete with large windows to dress in. I showed the mountains my nipples, and whoever else happened to be around.

Our group's guide was sophie "soph". She's an adorable blond, dreadlocked child of the south island. She showed us fur seals (actually sea lions) and dolphins and a waterfall to beat all waterfalls and tree slides. She was as relaxed as post pedicured feet in slippers. And I tried to make friends with the french couple in the yellow kayak. The british couple in the blue kayak kept bumping into us and I wanted to say "you gave us the revolutionary war, they gave us the statue of liberty, of course I prefer them"

Later, while undressing again, the french woman is asking me about my adoration of her country and I tell her I am in love, she says something about english and switzerland. Whatever. "Can I fuck your husband?"

Just outside of christchurch this morning, I happened upon three men of working class status discussing the quake and it's relation to politics and government. The vehemency in their voices reminded me of all discussions of american politics I've had with citizens of the republic. And I am left to wonder..."are we in a state of perpetual emergency and disaster?" These men were speaking out of pain and confusion and frustration. They were living in a campground because their homes were unlivable. There is chaos surrounding such a thing, inevitably. Power is never restored as soon as it is desired, buildings cannot be built fast enough, insurance companies are of course more difficult than need be, and those without resources are generally hurt the most.

After apologizing for their language to me, I am asked of my origins. Then, the best of the three men says that they must seem ridiculous moaning about such a small thing when disasters like this claim lives in the U.S. all the time. And we just get over it. Aha!

We don't.

And it is no small thing to have the second largest city in your country in ruins. There is an exodus apparently from Christchurch. People are expecting another quake bigger than the first two.

I have learned that kiwis like to tell tales to american girls, so I believe only half. But, there may be another expected in Wellington, this month.

And on to the present.

There is a dam in me. Or surrounding me.

Driving through the plains of the south, it really felt like mid september in Michigan, when the last of the corn is being eaten and the gardens are finishing their last big generosity. The light is just a bit different, reminding us that summer is over. The days are warm, but the nights can be cool, and we feel autumn entreating.

It was then, if I didn't look at the mountains' shadow in the distance, that I felt Michigan in my presence. There was a dam keeping many tons of water out of my emotional reach, and with that sense, the dam came flooding in on my head. For a moment I felt like drowning. I felt the warm neck of my dogs, and their wet noses, I saw my parents' faces and heard brother's voice. I was eating corn on the cob with butter and sea salt at a party with friends. Only for a moment. Then it was gone.

The truth is, such pleasures are sweet and appealing, but if I know from experience that were I to actually have them, I'd be more than satiated in days.

So, the water stops coming in and I am driving on the left side of the road in paradise again.

I am enjoying New Zealand wine and sending New Zealand resumes out in search of New Zealand jobs. I am taking the ferry back across to the warm north island in two days. I am looking to deepen this experience I have jumped into.

With my last sip of New Zealand Viognier, I send you love.

Love not from need or familiarity, but from the deep, held-back waters of a dam that provide electricity to an entire city.

Kisses to the places in you that are adventurous, that demand independence, that cannot be shed. My unsheddables press against your unsheddables. And we are eternity.