The precarious nature of the track: a day in the life of a racecourse'What will they do without their horses? What will their horses do without them?'By Marty Smith | 14th August, 2026Guest writer
When the water rushes in: a dispatch from Hawke’s Bay'The mud line on the shelterbelts is above head height in a monstrous moonscape of grey drying mud smothered on with a giant brush.'By Marty Smith | 2nd April, 2023Guest writer
Goodbye, Swamp RdAuthor Marty Smith writes from her home in the flood-damaged Hawke's Bay.By Marty Smith | 26th March, 2023Guest writer
Pecky the magpie reviews The Axeman’s Carnival by Catherine ChidgeyA story told by a magpie, reviewed by a magpie.By Marty Smith | 16th October, 2022Guest writer
The Friday Poem: ‘To the trees of summer’ by Marty SmithNew poetry - actually, she sent it in on Thursday, and we have rushed it to the head of the queue in these dry days of summer - by Hawkes Bay writer Marty Smith.By Marty Smith | 8th December, 2017Guest writer
