I reading "The Water Thieves" by Sam Mahon at the moment and i'm loving it. Especially important now that the consents have been granted for this monstrosity. As you would expect i oppose this irrigation scheme totally.
"A revamped Central Plains Water (CPW) irrigation scheme is set to proceed after the plan to draw water from two Canterbury rivers received interim approval.
While it will result in some adverse effects on the environment, we do not regard any of those on their own, or the total effects of the scheme, to be unsustainable," the commissioners said." (my emphasis)
Well it doesn't get clearer than that.
While reading sam's book I came across a passage that i think could go well as a poem. The words are straight from a paragraph. i've just added a few hyphens but taken no words out or changed the order.
it flows
an unquenchable vein
through long-straight rapids
quiet pools
broken gullys
it ambles.
shingle-flats-flecked with wings
slips through the silent gorge
green and heavy
its slumbering-silver-skin
pricked by shallows.
Then waking mature
roaring sheeted-torn
and flecked, it surges
hefts its bed
into new patterns
with every new season-dividing
the thousand acre forest
to the north from
sundry-clumps
of wild willow
to the south-amidst
which you'll find
from time
to time a pale
drift of wood-smoke.
Most likely
it is us.
I know, probably a bit over zealous with the hyphens.
