Let us be
in the liberality of our interpretations. After all, for every thesis there must be an antithesis, right? Or wrong, but as dogs delight to bark and bite I too can be adaptive.
a zigzag to me is all points and jaggies with bits in the middle joining ’em up. I imagine that on this theme there will be no shortage of variations on lightning, which is good, ‘cos lightning is about as ziggy and zaggy as you can get.
BUT FOR MYSELF
I lack lightnings so make do with what’s immediately to hand—and as The Spouse wanted to go back into town this morning I carped the diem with both hands despite the inclement weather—
—and I scored this shot of the overnight rainfall’s effect on the ziggies of the footpath. Okaaaay, we’ve booked in the very latest El Nino to give us a warm wet spring, fair enough … but it’s too early, dammit. Memo to self: don’t put away the snow gear just yet.
SO MOVING ON
I happened across a splopping puddle. I was intrigued, splop-drops are all soft and round and cuddly, quite unlike ziggies in fact—
—so I mightn’t have included it except that I was lucky enough to catch a fortuitous ring-splash in mid leap. And adding some contrast was its very own self-generated personal shadow. Pure serendipity despite the official theme …
a quick transit through a convenient enclosed alleyway fondly referred to locally as an ‘arcade’.
(I shouldn’t be so cynical. I’ve just looked up the dictionary definition of arcade and yes, it does fit the bill. The locals also call these things ‘malls’ but I draw the line there …)
I think it’s a dying arcade but the Council is trying to resurrect it with vast injections of taxpayer dollars. It won’t work of course, but until it does finally go belly-up I shall transit therein and walk the floor thereon; as in our snippet shot to the left here.
There’s something about old tile work that really rings my bell—nothing much seems to have changed (in tiled floors) in several thousands of years. The ancient Romans and Greeks and Egyptians and Minoans and other such stuff really knew what they were about …
Walking through the
alley (oops) arcade gets us out into Esk Street with many posters and signs erected, one such erection offering quite artistically drawn lightning-struck bargains; and if you refocus a little you get to see the passing traffic too (is that cool, or what?).
IF YOU THEN GO ON TO VISIT
H & J’s department store there’s an excellent wee cafeteria come restaurant come chow-hall on the top floor, which you access either by using the lift (elevator), the escalator, or for the adventurous some stairs. Just don’t expect hot coffee—the words ‘hot’ and ‘coffee’ do not belong in the same sentence anywhere in Southland (although both Global Bytes and Starbucks are willing to at least give it a try).
I opt mostly for stairs myself ‘cos Invercargill is the quintessential flat-land. H&J’s stairs are about the nearest thing we get to exercise down here without a long drive in the car first. AND the stairs have a sort of zig-zaggy effect (if you look at them like that)—
—as I often do. Sometimes people have been surprised by the sight of a demented old goat galloping up and down the stairs but with all their faults Southlanders are often tolerant of the eccentric or just plain batty.
THEN HAVING MET UP
with The Spouse and guzzled a hot tea in Mooch (downstairs café, they do good coffee too but we mostly choose their excellent tea at this end of the day) I walked her back to the car, passing an appetising wee sign on the way—
—and already plotting to go for a nice long walk tomorrow to look for zigs and zags out in the countryside.
If all else fails I’ll see if I can justify a shot of barbed wire—after all, barbed wire is just a load of sharp points tied together in the middle, no? Don’t wait up …