At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.*
Yesterday was, according to the forecast, the last fine day for the rest of the week. My day started with the unmistakable clatter of a hovering helicopter. I pulled the curtains back and spotted the culprit along the Valley near Harbourview. It was ferrying underslung loads from one point to another. I imagine it was from the bed of a truck to a building site not yet accessible by road. I couldn’t see what the loads were since the hook was constantly below the treeline. The scary thing to me was the apparent proximity of the high voltage transmission wires, though the foreshortening effect of the long lens may have made that look worse than it was.
In the afternoon, I went into the city and pottered around Oriental Bay and the Clyde Quay precinct. A juvenile black-backed gull flew in close and got photographed. Look at that quizzical eye looking down at me.
On the wharf, there is an aperture with a diving platform where young people (and even the mayor) dive into the water below. The youngsters love to “bomb” so as to make the biggest splash possible.
From there I went home via Seaview, and was caught by the pile of scrap steel. I suspect much of the current pile is from the railway workshops. Not a difficult guess since there were stacks of wagon wheels and bogie frames, and quite a lot of heavy gauge scrap which had been left behind by a profile cutter.
Mary’s car was in the workshop overnight waiting for a spare part to arrive so I had to pick her up from the hospice. The camellias in the garden were in spectacular form and surprisingly untouched by recent hail and windy weather.
I was on kitchen duties, and I quite liked the colour in a small pan of vegetables.
That will do for the day.
*For the Fallen, by Lawrence Binyon