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AuthorDanica Soich

Author Archive: Danica Soich

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March 18, 2019

Grunion fish beach themselves to mate. I watched the video of it—thousands upon thousands of writhing, gaping fish, beaching themselves and fucking. Meanwhile, there’s hundreds of birds swooping in, plucking them off for dinner. Only a few grunions return to the sea. This is a metaphor for something, though I’m not sure what. The world […]

October 8, 2018

John stands teetered on the edge of the Mokau river in Taranaki, tending his hand held net. A rain of insects litters down over the water, which is lined by wooden huts. John lifts up a long mescaline sock, and the net is full of tiny fish no bigger than a hairpin. Gelatinous, full stop […]

August 13, 2018

Shrooms to save the world Fungi is a fuzzy rotting peach. It’s a ring of toadstools sprung up one morning on a dewy lawn. It’s rich, living, slightly pungent. It’s the rhythm of growth and death. Fungus-like forms colonised land 6 million years ago, long before plants. Fungi (apparently pronounced fun-ji) are more closely related […]

July 30, 2018

Talking ‘bout 1080. Legend has it that when Māori first arrived on the shores of Aotearoa, the birdsong was deafening. A tempest of booms, whistles, chirrups, and hoots erupted from the wild, impenetrable bush. Now, on a walk through the bush, listen closely. Hear a peep, a rustle, and the echo of silence. The silence […]

May 28, 2018

Remix to ignition; carless cities. The following is written from a completely hypocritical position. I’m going to talk about how cars have massacred cities and we should get rid of them. At the same time, I drove to the library in my smoking heap of a Honda Civic. We’re used to cars the way fish […]

May 14, 2018

My dad is a farmer up North. To farm, he uses a blue Yamaha quad, and dog named Jack rides on the back. Before the invention of the combustion engine, bullocks would have drawn a plow across the doughy paddock. And before that, it was bush. You can trace the history of the farm like […]

April 30, 2018

I’m watching bees collect nectar from the teeth of dandelions in my neglected garden. Swift as tigers, the bees hum with clumps of pollen cradled behind their knees. There is something mystical about bees. In Celtic law, they are messengers of the dead. Karl Marx propounded bees as a perfect model for human society. My […]

April 9, 2018

Fresh water today is slippery business. Large amounts of the resource are being siphoned into the pockets of private, overseas bottle companies by virtue of council consents. Farmers pump water for no fee, turning water to milk and rivers to dust. The citizen is watering her lawns and leaving her taps running. It seems that […]

March 19, 2018

I live in a small house in a leafy suburb. I’m lucky. After a few crap years in the concrete jungle it’s a breath of fresh air to be close to the bush. Even as I write this, there’s a pohutakawa that fills my bedroom with a brilliant vermilion blaze. If you look hard enough […]

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