Catlins Place 1/1 by Tripoto
Kelli Mutchler
Five…six…seven… the flat stone skips from circle to circle, dancing across an otherwise untouched surface. Rings spin outward like ladies’ dresses, swirling, then subsiding into silence. We had driven down – to the Catlins, a remote stretch of coast on New Zealand’s South Island – to skim stones and sleep in late. Peace is often found in the stillness of reflection.