Forgive me this indulgence. Three years ago I was standing in this little office wondering what to put on the last page. It’s a funny space: it was once a verandah, so it’s narrow and long. There is just enough room for two desks and a bookshelf behind us. It’s freezing cold in winter and baking hot in summer. I repurposed a blind from somewhere else in the house, but it doesn’t really work. At particular times of year, the sun comes in at just the wrong angle in the afternoons so I have to wear a hat down low over my eyes. I’ve finally ordered a more effective window covering.

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The deadline for our first issue was drawing near. It was a bit of a hustle, a standing start, the first issue produced and on shelves inside about six weeks. I kind of forgot to organise the back page. I stood and looked out over the street, past the listed pōhutukawa and across the valley to St Joseph’s church on Great North Road in Grey Lynn. I thought people’s windows might make a nice column. It’s not the most original idea but it allows for pause, and reflection. Elisapeta Heta wrote the first one. She knocked it out of the park. Kia ora e hoa! 

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We’d not long been back in central Auckland after seven years on the North Shore and seeing familiar landmarks gave me a thrill. Still does: sometimes I catch a glimpse of the Sky Tower from our bedroom window, all lit up in something garish, and I feel instantly connected to the city. (True story: being able to see the Sky Tower was one of our five prerequisites in buying a house.)

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One day, the office will go, when we eventually get around to fixing this place, and it will return to being a covered bullnose verandah similar to the house’s 1900s sisters down the street. We’ll be able to sit out here in the late afternoon and look at the church and the Sky Tower. But even then, this little office will have a special place in my heart.

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Thanks for joining us for the past three years: we look forward to the next few – though hopefully I won’t have the sun in my eyes.