Blog
Symphony
It all begins with an idea.
A Symphony Like No Other
Last weekend, I traveled to Nelson to attend one of the finest symphony concerts I’ve ever experienced.
It was absolutely brilliant—24 gifted musicians in perfect harmony, creating a breathtaking sonic landscape. The performance stayed with me long after the final note faded.
The next morning, we headed to the airport to catch an early flight to Wellington. Just before departure, I made a quick stop at the men's room.
Out of eight stalls, only one was free. I stepped in to take care of my morning business—and suddenly, it turned into a full-blown octave.
Within moments, I found myself immersed in an unexpected "composition." The acoustics were impressive, and the lineup of sounds was… robust. Trumpet, trombone, brass, strings, double bass, cello—accompanied by occasional, dramatic vocals. It was as if every instrument had taken its cue from breakfast.
The most remarkable part? Each performer was deeply committed. No music sheets, yet perfect timing. Independent yet responsive. A competitive yet collaborative ensemble. And instead of notes… well, you get the picture.
It was chaotic. It was wild.
It was… divine.
A symphony like no other.
Dream or Real?
It all begins with an idea.
A Walk Through the Golden Hour
How can I put this experience into words?
I’ve climbed this mountain a few times before, but this time—this time was different. I reached the top during the golden hour, when the world seems to pause in warm light and quiet reflection.
A cool breeze kissed my sweaty face, and a soft wind playfully tried to hold me back. The cacophony of cicadas reminded me that you don’t need to be large to be heard. Around me, tall trees stood with quiet dignity—weathered witnesses to countless sunrises and storms.
Above, dark clouds draped themselves across the sky. The moon—Miss Nila—struggled to peek through, playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds, while the eye of heaven slowly shut at the horizon.
My ears tuned into two competing rhythms: the crunch of my hiking boots and the steady thump of my heartbeat.
And just as I was soaking in this moment of solitude, I heard a voice echoing from the distance:
“Get up, it’s late!” my flatmate called out.