What a splendid day.
It wasn’t warm, by any means, but it was less chilly than it has been. The water wasn’t flat calm, but the air was sharp and clear. As usual in such conditions, I headed South to the city. Sitting on a column in the sea wall, was the most grotesque little dragon. This was a fully glazed and fired ceramic piece, and was giving great amusement to many passers-by. Two men engaged in litter collection seriously thought to throw it in their sack, but were persuaded by several calls from the passing pedestrians to leave it in place. A red-billed gull descended to the column to inspect the newcomer.
Eighty kilometres to the North, the high peaks of the Tararuas stood sharp and clear against the unblemished sky. This demanded a higher viewpoint, so of course, Mt Victoria was the obvious destination.
The Northern lookout on Mt Victoria offers some nice unobstructed views. Glittering water in the inner harbour lied about how warm it was, but made a nice picture anyway. Aratere was departing for Picton, leaving the cloud of diesel exhaust lingering in the air as it usually does when her engines first start.
In the South and East, the airport was both visible and audible. The adjacent green suburbs of Miramar and Kilbirnie contrast with the black tarmac of the runway. Evans Bay marina is in the lower right corner, and a solitary yacht on the lower left, harvests that spiteful breeze.
By now, Aratere is gathering speed as she nears Pt Halswell, and the fishing trawler, Steve Mayree returns to port to discharge its catch.
To the West, the high-rise buildings along Willis, Manners, Courtenay imprison thousands of wage slaves, oblivious to the beauty of the day outside. I should modify that by noting the increasing percentage of apartment buildings in the city.
That’s another day done.