By: Blonde Two
By Blonde Two
My New Zealand cousins keep asking me why I don’t go and live over there; and indeed, over my lifetime, I have had a few attempts/opportunities to do so. New Zealand is a stunningly beautiful place, it isn’t over crowded, and offers near-perfection for anyone who loves the outdoors.
When we first moved our family to Devon; I decided that with the moors, the sea and the rolling hills, it was as near as I was going to get to New Zealand whilst remaining in the UK.
It is too late now for me to move; my roots have grown long into Devon soil, and I am no longer the person that NZ Immigration is looking for. This is acceptable though, because I have finally come to the conclusion that I like Devon better; and more to the point, I have worked out why.
It is the imperfection of Devon that I love. The weather can be dire, and it can be dire for long stretches of time; the ground turns to mud and the sky to grey for many months of the year. Devon’s moors are tricky to understand and to conquer; they are a law unto themselves and are quick to let us people know this. Devon’s air is sweet and soft with dampness; but her winds can take your breath away.
So why don’t I want perfection? I have photos from New Zealand trips that clearly demonstrate it. Air so bright and clean that you can see miles without visual interruption; mountains so grand and so endless that you think you are dreaming; and so much space.
I think it is because I am not perfect. Like Devon, I have moods, I swing from grey to blue to green; I am not perfectly formed or stunning to photograph; and if you were to compare me to a landscape, I would definitely be more rolling hills than mountain range.