Page 2 of The Geography of Happiness

Hannah gasped. “Have people died up there?”

I studied my daughter, captivated by Luke’s storytelling.

Luke shot me a questioning look that asked if I was okay with the tone of the conversation, and I answered with a grateful nod. Hannah’s sense of adventure could get her into trouble and a little warning wouldn’t go amiss.

He continued, “A few, over the years. Mostly people caught on the hills in bad weather without the right gear. That’s why you never wander off without telling someone where you’re going, even on a good day, understand?”

“Okay.” Hannah nodded enthusiastically and I swallowed a smile.

“Butyou’regonna have a great time,” Luke added. “It’s an amazing place to visit and there’s lots to see and do. Although I should warn you, it’s got a way of getting under your skin. Some people come for a visit and never leave.” He glanced over his shoulder, wearing a huge smile. “Like me, for example.”

“Really?” I studied the back of his head.

He nodded. “Yeah. I used to fly all over New Zealand and internationally. But the first time I flew through these valleys, I thought my heart was gonna explode. There’s nowhere in the world quite like this.”

I smiled and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “You’re a romantic.”

A blush crept up his neck. “Kind of hard to live in this place andnotfall prey to a bit of romance, don’t you think?”

I canvassed the scenery and found myself nodding. October had apparently been unusually cool in the high country and the first week of November wasn’t any better. The snow lay thick on most of the higher altitudes, while far below thethwump-thwumpof the helicopter, thousands of hectares of billowy tussock and thorny matagouri painted the valley floor in shades of gold and brown, interspersed with patches of bright green pasture, grey shingle banks, and icy-blue glacial water.

“Yeah, I certainly wouldn’t object to having my breakfast on the deck looking at that view every day.”

Luke followed my gaze to the sprawling homestead nestled at the head of the valley, a small crystalline blue lake shimmering at its feet, and his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Yep. Some of the prettiest scenery in the Mackenzie.”

I didn’t doubt him for a second.

The single-level stone and weatherboard structure was picture-postcard beautiful. The long sloping lawn in front ran down to the water’s edge—a flash of vibrant green and bright blue in a landscape dominated by soft hues of grey and brown.

Two small cottages sat lakefront just to the side of the main house, while a mix of small agricultural buildings and yet more cottages sat further up the drive behind the homestead—their red roofs peeking up between densely planted shelter belts. A large woolshed, a labyrinth of yards, and several hay barns sat even further back alongside the airfield.

To the west of the homestead, a wide, braided river made its serpentine way through a network of gravel channels. The narrow band of river flats on either side were quickly subsumed into steep foothills slashed by bushy gorges and treacherous scree slopes. Peaking over the sawtooth ridges at the top, the Southern Alps flashed their snow-tipped peaks, and way, way in the distance, the Tasman Sea glistened.

Black cattle grazed the valley floor, while tiny specks of cream wandered the higher altitudes in groups of three or four. A ridiculous burst of excitement bubbled through my chest.

I leaned forward and pointed through the cockpit glass. “Are those merinos?”

Luke nodded. “Holden released some of the wethers onto the hill last week. The rest of the mob will join them soon.”

“Wethers?” I cocked my head.

“The castrated males,” Luke explained, and I winced. He chuckled. “They’ll graze their way deep into the back country over summer before being mustered around April.”

I frowned at the brown scrubby vegetation on the steep slopes as we passed over and shook my head. “Doesn’t look very appetising.”

Hannah groaned, “Daaaad. They’re born to eat that stuff. They prefer it.”

I frowned at the side of my daughter’s head. “How do you know?”

She turned and I was gifted the ubiquitous eye-roll in all its glory. “Cos at least I did some research on the place, unlike some.” She shook her head and returned to staring out her window. “Honestly.”

“Honestly,” I mimicked sarcastically to the back of her head, earning myself an elbow in the ribs.

Luke’s shoulders bounced in amusement. “She is right, though.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” I muttered, which only made him laugh harder.

“See, I told you,” Hannah mocked me softly.

---