Makara is an interesting little community.
Though it is just twenty minutes from Wellington, and is indeed part of Wellington City, it seems like another country. Many of the homes, at least as seen from the outside, are rustic, and in some cases eccentric. The casual visitor might get the impression that some occupiers don’t spend a lot of money on maintenance. Of course it is fully exposed to the incoming salt spray in the prevailing Nor’Westerly wind, so paint does not last long.
But it is the bay itself that is the essence of Makara. A steeply shelving rocky beach has an unending sound track of growling rocks surging back and forth in the swells from the Tasman Sea .
Last week’s torrential rains caused the river to rise so I wandered upstream a little to see what changes had been wrought since my last visit. It is clear that there was a massive surge of water as all of the fences down the Takarau Gorge had debris draped over every wire from bottom to top.The gorge must have been a fearsome sight at the peak of the flow. Down at the bay, however, apart from a solid coating of mud, things were pretty much as usual. How the sad old wheelbarrow got there is beyond me.
I walked a little way back upstream to the well known shag roost tree. I think the shags were conducting their annual general meeting. It was good to see a number of juveniles up there.
That’s my lot for today.