Everyone is a leaf on their family tree, but for eight years I was also

A Bird in the Bush

From fledgling to flight

‘I fell in love with the bush, the rugged terrain, the loneliness and wildness all rolled into a parcel and wrapped with the excitement of unknown territory. I was 14 and from that day, wanted nothing more than to immerse myself in the isolation and romance of the lonely Pakihi Valley.’

There was never a dull moment in Marnie’s formative years; mustering sheep and cattle over huge swathes of steep countryside; shearing and fleeco-ing; drenching; skinning possums; chasing pigs; catching poachers; and surviving floods, fires and financial hardship.

The word memoir means ‘a historical biography written from personal knowledge’ and is derived from the word ‘memory’. But what if “memoir” is broken into its two syllables as ‘me-moir’? The name Moir dates from the 14th century. It means “brave, renowned, mighty” in Scottish Gaelic. Thus, “memoir” could be defined as: ‘Me: brave, renowned, mighty’. Except, this was not me at all. I was fearful, insignificant, and unimportant. . .

Marnie’s memoir of 1970s rural life in the Eastern Bay of Plenty, New Zealand, chronicles the transformation of a socially awkward teen into a resilient, self-confident young woman.

‘Look before you leap’

In hindsight, this expression literally and figuratively related to many experiences throughout my early adult years. But in the one instance where I purposefully did look before I leapt, I came very close to denying what proved to be my greatest venture – and discovered that sometimes the ultimate leap is one of faith.