Ngā Hua te Taiao: A bird’s eye view

Good news stories (and more) for the planet 

Kia ora, Salient reader! Welcome to our fortnightly column on the environment, sustainable living, and the small, stubborn act of hope amongst a world on fire! Check in every second week for waste-free recipes, genuinely good news, and practical ways to lend a hand—nudging a happier, healthier earth a little closer into view.

Recipe:

Focaccia is surely the most fantastic bread of all time. It’s very simple to make and you can spice it up with fun toppings according to how you feel on the day; sea salt and fresh rosemary from the garden for a slice of Italian summer, cumin seeds and garlic for a rich and cosy bite. Dip it in olive oil at a dinner party or accompany it with your favourite hearty soup, this bread is number one when you’re in a not-sure-what-to-make kind of moment.

Ingredients:

• 500ml warm water

• 1 ½ tbsp active yeast

• 1 ½ tsp salt

• 1 tsp sugar

• 570g plain flour

• olive oil

• Sea salt and other toppings of your choice (eg. rosemary, garlic, cumin seeds, chilli flakes)

Directions:

1. Put the warm water, yeast, sugar, and 1 tbsp of the flour into a large mixing bowl. Stir together. Cover with a tea towel and leave for 10 minutes for the yeast to activate.

2. Add the remaining flour and mix until smooth. Cover with a damp tea towel and place in a warm place (an oven on the lowest temperature works if your flat is like the Antarctic) for at least 45 minutes to rise.

3. Preheat the oven to 220°C. Oil a shallow, medium sized roasting dish.

4. Scrape the risen dough into the dish. With oiled hands, spread it out evenly and dimple with your fingers.

5. Sprinkle with sea salt and other toppings of your choice.

6. Bake for 15 minutes until risen and golden brown. Enjoy!

A bird’s eye view

As the branch I sit on tilts in the wind, I allow myself to fall with it, opening my wings to catch the air. The man on the bench flinches as I swoop past his head—I chuckle. Within seconds I am above the trees, gliding towards the leafless forest of grey ahead. I can see a lot from here.

I swoop through the park. A mother and her child are laughing as they play. A late morning jogger putters along, a hint of a smile shining through her hard-working grimace. 

The park merges into houses as I glide above the world. Here, schoolchildren dawdle, kicking leaves and stomping in puddles. A dog tears around in a backyard, snapping at the daisies. 

The houses transform into high-rise buildings, like something from the future. Two men dressed bright as oranges catch my eye; leaning against a wall, steaming hot pies in hand. Suits and skirts are strutting back and forth, always going somewhere. The beat of my wings is outdone by the groan of the tired buses, dragging themselves along the streets. 

At last, the forest of grey and concrete makes way to the sea. Everyone seems to converge here; sitting, walking, talking, watching, eating, being. I see a lot from here. I go unnoticed here.

Humans never fail to confuse me. As some of them plant trees, others cut them down. As some of them pick up their messes, others continue to carelessly discard. It seems obvious as I fly above it all, how small the home is that they share. I wonder, if they all looked at each other with the same smile they gave their running buddy, workmate, or friend on the bench, perhaps they’d find more unity, take more responsibility for looking after the little nest they share together.

I am thankful for the new branches that people have planted, the predators they have removed, the precious species they have saved and protected. May they learn how to be thankful too.