The beach was deserted – a rare blessing brought on by bad weather. Low clouds drifted everywhere, some scudding across the sand like foam. We wandered among the boulders in silence, thinking up our own stories for them. Maori legend says they’re the remains of the wreck of Āraiteuru – the canoe that brought people to the South Island of New Zealand. They’re perfectly round, uniquely textured, and most are taller than me.
I’m grateful to the people of New Zealand that they look after places like this, and let them simply be.