Much of the time, there is the whining of the wind rising and falling, and making life uncomfortable. Sometimes, though, the whining you hear is me, complaining about there being too much wind. For a couple of days in the week just past, there was a startling silence. Into the car, then, and off to find some still water.
At Mana Marina, in Paremata, though the wind had dropped, the water was not yet still so I watched the tui flitting from flower to flower on the flax bushes now in the early stages of flowering. The tui is a nectar feeder with a long tongue that extends far beyond is beak into the depths of the flower. From a distance it is easy to mistake them for blackbirds, unless you see the white ruff at the throat, but up close, they wear a magnificent coloured plumage. In this season, they are so fixated on the nectar that you can often get very close.
A day or so later, I went to Mana Marina again, pausing in Ivey Bay to take a few shots of boats at their moorings. As I was returning to the car, my attention was caught by the prolific purple ragwort. This South African invader is absolutely everywhere along the roadsides, and especially on hillsides. Despite its status as a pest, the flowers en masse put on a wonderful seasonal display.
At the marina, conditions were near perfect, and despite popular belief, most photographers hope for a few clouds to relive the monotony of an empty blue sky.
Maintaining the marina theme, I went to Seaview on Monday night. Odd to name a suburb “Seaview” in a city with so few places that don’t have a sea view.
I lingered as the sun disappeared and despite having to tidy up a few flares caused by dust on the filter glass, was happy with the result. Perhaps I should stop whining, even though the wind is back.
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One reply on “November 2, 2016 … stillness on the face of the waters”
I do like your marina shots.