greenstone

Forest ecology week is on its way. Its our last class here in New Zealand, and its proving itself far more challenging than stream and marine. Already we've hiked through uncharted territories in the New Zealand low-forest. I've been hit by a tree, and it bruises. Tomorrow we leave for the West Coast: Bruce Bay and Franz Josef. Half of our final two weeks in New Zealand will be spent frolicking under giant tree ferns.

I've got a lot of mixed feelings about the closing of the semester. The Old Convent has felt closer to home than any of my dorm rooms at Westmont. I'm terribly fond of peeking out my window to see the Southern Alps in my backyard, riding through the smell of cow and burning wood each morning on my favorite mountain bike, and running across black sand most days after class. At times I feel like I've been here forever, but most days its like only yesterday that my roommates and I were unpacking suitcases into empty drawers, spreading sheets onto our country inn beds. The absence of home is quickly filled with lush rolling hills, where mountains meet the ocean, adventures into the sky. Even though I miss unlimited internet, the comforts of a cell phone, and in-n-out, I've learned to adapt and live without. I long for the embrace of California, but my heart wonders if I'll ever come back.

---sunrise at Rarangi Beach