Colourful diversion on grey day

T HE sky is a uniform grey but it cannot dull the colours of Coote Rd in Napier.
As I come up the road from Marine Parade the Centennial Gardens glow compared with the dark weather and the varying greens on the cliff side.
Against this background the flower beds are fluorescent. Oranges, pinks, reds and purples run rampant against the feeling that winter is coming.
The street is quiet. It is not raining but the threat is keeping most people inside. Ahead of me a woman and three children come out of the gardens and run up the road, the clouds have failed to dampen their excitement.
A woman wearing sport clothes walking her dog is happy to stop for a minute. Sara Firman walks in the area every day with her black retriever-poodle-cross Rosie.
The weather makes no difference to 20-month-old Rosie, and Mrs Firman has remembered her umbrella today.
Outside the Army Cadet Hall two men stand on the steps just outside the door, one is smoking. They are relaxed, talking but they tense as I approach. They relax again as we talk for a while about the weather and their work.
"She wants to talk to me, nobody else wants to talk to me," George Purvis says to his friend and they both laugh.
Mr Purvis is an Army employee based at the hall.
He works with the Land Training and Doctrine Group based in Waiouru but has worked primarily out of the Coote Rd hall for two years.
"The hall's mostly for the cadets. We're like tenants here, they let us borrow an office."
I walk up the street towards Shakespeare Rd.
Builders are working on Martin Poppelwell's new studio. The frame is up but there is still brand name stamped plastic over the spaces that will become doors and windows. The builders are wrapped up against weather and accidents with long-sleeved thermals, ear protection and fluorescent vests.
A dark-haired girl, around 8 years old, leans out a top storey window to wave to me. From the window I hear laughter and the girl is drawn back to whatever activity beckons.
There's a long line of recycling outside one of the buildings, beer boxes and a variety of bottles in a neat row against the wall. It looks like someone had a well-fuelled Easter weekend.
This end of the street is quiet.
Napier Girls' High School is silent looking over the street. I imagine it would be raucous and busy during the school term.
A few lights are on, perhaps teachers are already preparing for the students' return.
The fish and chip shop is closed for another six hours but a full rubbish bin next to it attests to its popularity over the long weekend.
The corner dairy is mostly empty when I go in.
Irene Prasaad, who owns it with her husband Sanjesh, says business is average in school holidays, while students from Napier Girls and Sacred Heart College keep them busy during term time.
Mrs Prasaad says her own knowledge of local sites has been improved giving directions to the tourists who come looking for the historic Napier prison and the Bluff Hill lookout.
"People know it's in the area but maybe they need more signs. I give excellent directions now."
On my way out a man in a safety vest comes in and heads straight to the pie warmer.
Heading back towards Marine Parade a woman with a map follows the sign to the lookout and a man waits at the top of the hill for his companion, a boy on a scooter, to reach him.
I am surprised by the number of cars that go past - it's a popular thoroughfare. Three cars in 10 minutes do U-turns at the end of the road; locals who know Coote Rd is wide and convenient or lost tourists trying to get back to town.
I pass four girls in their early teens, under-dressed for the weather but presumably looking cool in jeans and cardigans. Their chatter is high-pitched, high-speed and exuberant, they ignore me without effort.
Five women in running shoes and windbreakers march past laughing and talking. Gossip and exercise needs fulfilled, it seems efficient. They look at me, sitting in the park, but nothing interrupts their conversation.
On my way back to the gardens I pass Mrs Firman and Rosie. It's been a long walk and at least one of them is ready to head home. Rosie is more interested in me this time, she noses curiously at my notepad.
A middle-aged American couple come down the driveway from the prison. They have just finished their prison tour and are heading back to town.
I watch them walk through the Centennial Gardens on their way to Marine Parade, drawn, as I was, towards the vivid colour on this monochrome day.