Here’s my rendition of the famous poem, Kiwi Olive Grove style…
It was howling a gale outside when Amelia from Radio New Zealand showed up at my door. We immediately headed out for a walk through the paddocks. She had a black box hanging from her side, and she was holding two very large, imposing microphones.
CJ looked nervous. “What do you mean? We have to harvest.”
“It’s taking him longer than expected in another olive grove. He says he’ll come here tomorrow, but he won’t commit to a time.”
In my experience, there are three essential things you’ll need: good olives, good friends, and good neighbors.
The first of the city friends arrived on Friday night, driving over the Rimutaka Hill Road after work in the dark, ready to settle in for a three-day weekend full of food, friends, olives, and a lot of hard work. There were big hello hugs all around and bags deposited in guest rooms.
The other afternoon I walked through the grove to look at the olives. I wanted to see how close they are to being ready to harvest. The late autumn light was sloping through the sky and throwing long shadows. The olive trees were literally soaking up all the sun, leaving patches of darkness in their wakes.