The rain stopped but the wind blew.
Oh how it blew. The sun was shining to I took myself to Makara where I had trouble opening the car door against the force of the wind. The waves were coming in and sucking hungrily at the rocky beach, making a fearsome growl as they retreated before the next one.
The oystercatchers on the beach were unperturbed by the crashing water a metre or so behind them, and carried on their territorial squabbles.
I took the road to the North through the Takarau Gorge and spotted a small black fluffy bundle. A Pukeko chick. I was as stealthy as I knew how, but mother is a very wary bird and she spotted me and they were on the other side of the stream before I could get closer.
Carrying on towards Johnsonville, it is hard to avoid seeing just how little rain there has been, despite the downpour the previous day. It’s hard to believe that the suburbs of Khandallah and Johnsonville lie just over that ridge.
Despite the desperate dryness, the valley was looking very attractive.
And the wind continues to howl.