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Moving sense of the relationship with father, Max and the trig stations effective images. Question the necessity for use of 'sometimes' at line 8's end. But like 'rawly' as adverb and particularly that dark bulked bull glimpsed in passing. Bill On Thursday, September 17, 2015, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Trig > > Through the side windows of Dad’s car > the North Island rolled by in colour - > > greens mostly, easy on the eye. > Rain would pass over, dulling it all, > > also keeping it green. > Sun again - glinting cabbage trees - > > rail tracks - isolated farm houses - > dark front hedges, sometimes > > hydrangeas - petrol stations - > not much in the way of towns. > > Sheep - dairy herds - some stud bull > alone with its dark bulk. > > Pine forests, cut through rawly > by tough loggers. Fire warnings. > > Recurring, on bare hilltops, > structures of wood shaped > > to a point - Dad said: just > another trig station. > > Trig, intriguing word. > What for? Oh, surveying. > > Might I become a surveyor? > They worked with tripods - > > theodolites, squinting. > The country rested on them. > > I mapped in mind a long walk > up every hill, touching each > > trig station, taking in views, > down and up to the next one. > > Why not carry a tent? - cloth shaped > to fit the trig shape; sleeping bag... > > but when a storm passed over, > lightning might strike the top. > > Stars every clear night, sun-up, > breakfast, and onward. The length > > of the whole island, and then? > He never took us past Wellington. > > Waiting for me much later, unrolled > the slow cruise along the Sound > > to Picton - and even lonelier, > far-flung trig stations of the South.