My writing is obviously not as clear as I hoped.
Thanks to those who sent supportive messages in response to yesterday’s bout of introspection. I had not intended to give the impression that I was contemplating quitting my photo-a-day blog. Rather, I was trying to explain why I shall continue. Either way, the responses are enormously valued, and I thank you.
Grey skies and a steady Northerly wind were the main features of yesterday’s Wellington scene. Wandering in search of a subject, I began at the St James cemetery behind the Lower Hutt public library. A reader in Australia had asked if I could find the graves of two of his forbears. It is not a service I plan to offer routinely, but I have always liked that graveyard and was going down there anyway. Regrettably many of the markers are so aged and uncared for that their inscriptions are unreadable. I have yet to find the required markers , but have not yet given up.
While I was there, I found at the base of a big oak tree, a solitary red rose and the name “Sam” spelled out in little white stones. The identity of Sam is a mystery to me, but whether it be person or pet, Sam is clearly missed by someone. And yes, I have applied a few effects around the edges.
In the spirit of “seeing”, I looked at the other side of the tree, loving the ruggedness of its bark, and I wonder if you can see the owl that I saw? I was tempted to emphasise its eyes, but that would be a manipulation too far.
On the steep edge of Korokoro Road above Petone Station, I looked out over Petone to the East. The road running from lower right to upper middle of the image is Jackson Street, the main shopping street of Petone. Somehow, despite its unwilling amalgamation with its Northern neighbour into the City of Lower Hutt in 1989 the spirit of the old Petone Borough lives on, and the retailers on Jackson Street have managed to persuade the normally greedy city council to refrain from imposing parking charges in the area. Free parking and quirky specialist shops and a host of interesting cafes and restaurants is are some of the reasons people flock here. It is always busy, though it is slowly losing historic buildings and becoming gentrified.
Looking down on the station and watching early evening commuter trains come and go suggested another opportunity, so I went up to Silverstream bridge (which I photographed a few weeks back when the river was in flood). There I waited a few minutes with the tripod erected in front of my car, and the camera set up and focused on the bridge. I arranged a slow exposure and then sitting in the warmth of my car, waited for the first train bound for Upper Hutt. As soon as the train intruded on the screen, I pressed the shutter and the train’s momentum did the rest.
Life goes on.