Daily Photo – Farm Field at Little River

I rolled into Little River around mid-morning, it was a Monday, which normally means a place like this is easing itself slowly back to life. A few empty parking spaces along the main street, someone sweeping a doorstep, and the faint sense of a weekend just finished. Today things were a little different in the town of Little River. The main street was jammed with mud splattered utes with brand names like Toyota and Kia. What’s more they were all parked at odd angles – suggesting they had been abandoned mid thought, farm dogs barking at everything and nothing, while their owners stood in loose groups along the footpath dressed in shorts and Swanndris, pointing, laughing, and slapping hands with the sort of enthusiasm usually reserved for a Saturday night. With caution, I drove through the gathering and casually gave the customary New Zealand rural wave, lifting a single finger from the steering wheel without fully letting go, offering just enough acknowledgement to be polite paired with a small knowing smile that said I understood the rules even if no one had ever explained them. Then, suddenly that was it. I was leaving the town of Little River, the noise fading behind me, mud, dogs, laughter, and the feeling that everyone else was in on something, and I would have to spend the rest of my life not knowing what it was.