RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CXVI, Issue 34133, 21 April 1976, Page 19

RANDOM REMINDER

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

The two couples might have been callled elderly by statistical standards, but it wasn’t the way they felt. Mature, yes, but ’not — definitely not elderly. The men were enjoying a change from their demanding role in commerce, happy to be driving away from it all. Turning a corner in the unsealed road wjndling between tree ferns, rata and rimu trees, the driver had to brake suddenly to avoid a car standing in the middle of the road. The reason for the stoppage was a weka strutting across the road. It seemed a good place for a barbecue. In no time at all they had the boot unpacked. In a shady cove they relaxed to the sound of waves

rippling in from the lake and expiring on the sand with a sigh. The office staff would have liked to see the Boss, in his pictorial apron, turning the chops and sausages with the flourish he normally reserved for attaching his signature to the typists’ output. His companions relcined in their beach chairs, their appetites responding to whiffs from the barbecue. The plates were laid out on the sand, the pile of bread buttered. They all agreed this was the life. They dwelt on the delights of living in such a spot without the ties of routine, lime and attire. Such an admirable way of life when compared with the daily

grind of so-called civilization. The temporary chef removed the first crisplybrown sausage and placed it on the plate. "Yes,” he continued, “a fellow could live here in harmony with nature — no hassle, no competitiveness.” He angled for the next sausage with his tongs. A crackle of twigs drew attention as a weka appeared from the bush and froze in full view. The two couples broke off, in mid sentence, entranced. The beady eye was alert for any sign of movement. There was none. Quick as a popped cork, the spell was broken. The bird’s neck shot forward, the beak secured the hot sausage, and both vanished into the bush.