Yesterday was a sad day for the family.
Mary’s mother died peacefully at the age of 97. This is not the place for an obituary, but with her late husband Jack, she welcomed me into her family and treated me as a son for 44 years. It was a privilege to have been her son-in-law, and I extend my deepest sympathies to all of her family. Today’s blog is dedicated with love to her memory.
Stillness was on the deep. I helped it along a little with the aid of a neutral density filter, and a long exposure, but it was fairly still to begin with. The artificial beach at Oriental Bay has just had a whole new load of sand to replenish the losses swept away by the currents that swirl along the beach to the East.
On the Eastern side of Evans Bay, this rather lovely classic gaff-rigged yacht was catching the sun on her sails, but not a whole lot of wind.
Around the corner, the Arahura was sitting perkily on the horizon off Moa Point on her way to Picton. No sign of the South Island in the background.
Back on the Western side of Evans Bay, I had paused for more still water shots when I saw the tell-tale black exhausts of an inbound RNZAF C130 Hercules. I imagine this was a routine flight shifting defense personnel between various posts up and down the country. I am intrigued by the very dark colour scheme and the low visibility national markings. I wonder in what theatre of operations this scheme would serve as camouflage.
Evans Bay itself was very still, and the elderly motor launch on the right was drifting a little in the currents in the bay. Everything else was, for all practical purposes, motionless.
Back in Oriental Bay, the Carter fountain was in operation, and the sun had just gone behind Te Ahumairangi (formerly the Tinakori Hill).
As I was closing down for the day, I looked across the valley from my front door and saw the full moon extricating itself from the bank of clouds on the Eastern Hills.
Sleep in Peace Catherine.