Why would a grown woman of extreme advanced years be wearing a pumpkin colored sweatshirt embroidered with the word New Zealand over the chest? And a gold-embroidered kiwi beneath that. Simple: If I live to be one hundred, I don’t ever want to forget the two November visits to Australia and New Zealand, home of the strange bird by which the natives proudly call themselves–kiwis.
If you’ve eaten a kiwi fruit you know of its rough coat and egg shape. But you won’t likely ever get close enough to the national bird to know that its feather coat resembles a hair brush– or hair with a double dose of spray. This I learned from an interview with a woman director of a park/sanctuary where researchers allowed visitors absolutely silent viewing in near-dark–the natural habitat for the nocturnal creatures. Peering to observe their search among leaves and logs for their favorite insects (once my eyes adjusted to practically no light), I was in awe of how they even managed to get around on two spindly legs attached to a huge egg-shaped body, all the while searching with a slender tube of a beak the length of a two-foot ruler. Amazing! I love to wear t-shirts and sweat shirts from the Daintree Rain Forest, Canadian provinces, Australia, and small ships; scarves and blouses from Holland and Hungary. And no matter how old or thin, my travel treasures cover me in memories. They remind me of my deceased best friend/spouse and places, people, and times. Wondrous travel times evoked by what I often wear.