Fifteen years ago. Fifteen hundred acres. Old Toki stepped onto this land. The mountainous peninsula laid gently on the water and looked out into the vast ocean. It curved like a long snake, concealing many bays where the sea breathed softly against the rocky shores. Above the cliffs spread five thousand sheep and cattle grazing on brown rye grass.
Koku was sick. They moved from the city to this land for Koku. On this land, the whole family could to stay close to Koku during her last months.
When he finished his work, Old Toki climbed up to the top of the hill and rested under the tree at the edge of the forest. He listened to birdsongs, breathed subtle aromas that insects carried about, and absorbed the constant wind that blew his wet hair from his eyes. Every night before Koku went to sleep, Old Toki would tell her what he saw in the forest: there was a zip zip bird that zipped through the forest making zip zip sounds like her coat zipper; there was a ring ring bird that rang in the forest, making Pa believe his phone was always ring ringing; there were also caterpillars that loved to climb along Pa's calves for a ride, colorful critters that crept curiously up his shoes, and kauri trees that carved paths in the forest.
One day, as Old Toki went up the hill again, an unusual bird flew from the tree at the edge of the forest over Old Toki's land and past the tip of the peninsula. Old Toki could not believe his eyes—it was the first and only bird he ever saw flying over his land. He followed the path of the bird across his land. There was hardly a sound, hardly a movement, hardly a tree. With every step was the same dry brown color of genetically engineered imported rye grass. The sheep and cows stared blindly at him. That day he went home and had nothing to tell Koku.
From that day, Old Toki sold all his sheep and cattle. Old Toki became the first farmer in New Zealand to transform his farmland into a regenerating forest, and his shores into protected marine wilderness. He created the Queen Charlotte Wilderness Park. From the top of the hill to the tip of the peninsula, now green shrubs poke out of the tall brown grass. Like a growing child, the regenerating forest is full of vivid energy and hope. His park has become a place that celebrates life, and inspires visitors to help re-establish the delicate balance between all life—a balance that will either produce raw beauty that possesses infinite layers of biodiversity, or nothing at all. It is a place that celebrates life, without suits, polished shoes, and five minute Powerpoint presentations about why the environment should be saved.
Koku gradually recovered and had three wonderful children. Old Toki smiled as he saw them swimming at the beach. His grandchildren will know what the ocean looks like—not a body of water, but a body of life. They will know how seals play on the rocks, how schools of fish dash carelessly in front of snorkels, and how abalone shells float in seaweed trees to make the water shimmer like twilight at night. And when they run out to the tip of the peninsula, they will be dancing among kauri trees to the endless music of native animals.
Today, when Old Toki stood at the tip of the peninsula, he heard it. He heard a new life. He heard a peeping he had never heard before. And he knows that tomorrow, he will hear another. And the day after that, another.
