May 18, 2014 … from bird-hide to the high country

Surplus to immediate requirements again, I was free to amuse myself.

White-faced heron among the reeds

To the South of the Clive River estuary, there is a wonderful wetland area which is often home to a great variety of shorebirds.  I took my hide, my gumboots, my camera and a borrowed 200 mm lens to see if I could overcome the woe of not having the 400 mm. I am quite pleased with what I got, though I think they would have been better with more horsepower. I just have to include more of the environment and persuade myself that the picture is the better for it.. So we begin with a  white-faced heron striding purposefully through  the reeds.

Kingfisher in flight

Next, we have a kingfisher. A little camera-shy, this one moved promptly to a more distant perch.

White heron in flight

And then, great glory, a white heron. I took several shots but almost all were too far away. Happily when it finally took off, it came towards me.

Amorous suitor in hot pursuit – dabchick

Things went quiet for a while and I amused myself with the Kindle app on my mobile phone, while keeping a watch for sound or movement outside the hide. It was the patter of little feet on the water that alerted me to the next scene. A lovelorn dabchick was in hot pursuit of a reluctant female, and the walking on water was just funny to watch. He didn’t get lucky, at least while I was there.

A pleasant driveway in Puketapu

In the afternoon, we set out from Taradale to visit my brother-in-law and his wife who live in a tiny settlement called Patoka. I recommend  that you use Google Maps to find it. After leaving Taradale, the first little settlement is Puketapu where I found yet another pretty tree-lined driveway.  From there another thirty-plus winding miles of splendid pastoral scenery brought us at last to Patoka. It consists of a school, a hall and a few houses. That’s it. The road carries on for another 40 or so kilometres until it finally expires on the edges of the Kaweka Range.

From Patoka back towards the coast

As I said. it is a stunningly beautiful landscape, but I couldn’t live there. It is just too far from anything else. This shot looks back to the East, but there is nothing but the infrequent farmhouse until you come at last to the coastal settlements.

Enough for now, the repaired lens arrived at home while I have been away.

 

 

May 17, 2014 … at last the sunshine

Bright sunshine is good for the soul.

Port of Napier

The temperature to go with it would be nice, but you can’t have everything. Bluff Hill in Napier was sparkling, if somewhat chilly. Down below the port was busy with two ships working freight and a dredge digging out the basin.

Beyond it’s use-by date

Later in the morning, I was inveigled into taking Mary to a cafe near Mission vineyards. The food and coffee were fine, but I felt I was living in a visual gauze-draped nightmare designed by Miss Haversham. Its customers were predominantly women, though there were a few spouses dragged along too. However, among the many props in this setting were some old carts, and I liked this one.

I have no idea what it is, but I like it

Another artfully strewn piece of equipment (not sure what it was) caught my eye.

Mission Winery driveway … lined with plane trees

From there we passed the gateway to Mission Vineyard and I had yet another tree-lined avenue to shoot.

Taradale War Memorial

At the end of the day, walking back from the shops with Mary, I paused to capture the Taradale War Memorial.

That’s all for now.

May 16, 2014 … into the wet wilderness

Rain, steady grey rain.

After the harvest, Awatoto

Sunny Hawkes Bay is letting me down entirely. Mary was attending to her mother yesterday and I was told when to come back and collect her, so after a quick look at Google maps, I decided to head in the direction of Ocean Beach. No idea what to expect when I got there, but I set out anyway. However, I was waylaid at a gap in a hedge near Awatoto. The colours of the recently harvested field, the dark sky and white plume from the fertilizer plant all made a picture I wanted to take.

Reluctant mob, excited dogs, wet and grumpy farmers

From there, I followed the long and winding road out towards Ocean Beach. In the region near Havelock North especially, I was amazed at the number of gateways intended to impress the passer-by with their opulence. These gateways said “I have hidden my magnificently obsessive mansion well away from the road, but here lives a wealthy man”. Closer to the coast, the properties were less ostentatious and just near the last intersection before Ocean Beach, a farming family was hard at work. They, with their dogs were trying to persuade a reluctant mob of sheep to cross a small but fast running stream. With much barking by the dogs and flapping of hessian by the workers the sheep were being pressed ever closer to the water. Perhaps they have some ancestral memory of water being associated with crocodiles, but they didn’t want to go.

Diversions on several fronts and the dogs and farmers are outflanked

And then the escape committee put its plan into action and they made a break for it. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth, though no garments were actually rent as far as I could tell.

Ocean Beach … the part to the left is a caravan park. On the right, among the trees is private property

A few more winding kilometres and some gravel road brought me to Ocean Beach which, on a fine day could be spectacular.

And that’s the day.

 

May 15, 2014 … in the not-so-sunny bay

Napier was not living up to its sunny reputation.

This tired old cart is itself becoming compost, even as it acts as a planter for flowers on its deck. I liked the lichens on the spokes and the web in the hub.

The motel in Taradale is very pleasant, and the first thing I saw outside the window was this decoratively displayed ruin of a farm cart. Despite the rotted wheel rims and the flowers growing through the cracks in its decking it was very attractive.

Cloudscape somewhere near Havelock North … from Roy’s Hill Reserve

After lunch, Mary was visiting her mother and I was turned loose to pursue photographs. I went out to the Fernhill area, near all the vineyards planed in the famed Gimblett gravels. Nothing much left on the vines by now save some autumn leaves. I chose to visit Roy’s Hill reserve, which is a small knoll just out of Fernhill which offers spreading views across the area. Cumulus clouds out to the East were worth a look.

Vineyard impressions

While I was up there, I experimented with a technique I saw in Blenheim of panning while the shutter was open, to try to capture an impression of the colours of the post-harvest vineyards.

Weary old building in Fernhill

Back at ground level, the road took me though the old village at Fernhill and this rather forlorn old store.

Oak avenue – Ormond Rd, Hastings

From there, the road took me back towards Hastings where I saw this historic oak-lined avenue. A police car was lurking at the edges to catch anyone defying the 60 km/h speed limit. The officer offered to move his car if it were interfering with my picture. I like our police. I didn’t need to move him, but was glad to have his eyes looking out for me as I stood in the middle of the road to take this shot.

I hope the sun comes out soon.

 

April 22, 2014 … from an unaccustomed part of the day

Apparently there is a whole world out there before morning coffee.

The very first edge of the sun peeks over the horizon yesterday. The sea was calm with just a modest swell coming in from the East.

Who knew? I always thought that my coffee at 10am actually caused the day to begin. My natural inclination, if I wake earlier, is to pull the covers up and close my eyes until eventually the desire for breakfast triumphs. For some reason, my normal reactions failed yesterday and my eyes remained open.  I could see through the curtains that there was some light in the sky. Perhaps it was time to discover whether these rumours of a phenomenon called “sunrise” were based on fact. The motel was a few hundred metres from the beach so I walked out, across the railway line, and over Marine Parade. Though the sun had not yet risen, the sky was quite light, and looking North along the beach, I could see that there were many other photographers along the beach, all pointing out to sea, awaiting the arrival of the new day. Gisborne is the nearest city to the International date line, and is thus  first city in the world to see the light of each new day. Napier will be just seconds behind.

Beautiful light on the clouds at sunrise

The sky was reasonably clear for the most part, but there was a line of cloud along the beach that was catching the light of the newly emerged sun. The building to the left is the national aquarium.

Delicately floating on the weed-covered water

After a visit to Mary’s mother, we set out for home. Without the urgency of the Northbound journey, we had the freedom to stop now and then for photographic purposes. Mary is very patient, most of the time, and  has knitting and a book at hand. One such stop was the Pekakpeka wetlands, just South of Hastings. The water level was quite high, and though it was tea-brown, seemed quite clear. Bird life was disappointing, though, with little to see but the ubiquitous black swans. Usually I can rely on this site for dabchicks and Australian coots. It is perhaps symbolic that my image from this part of the trip is a solitary feather left behind to float on the water.

Rain in the hills to the East of Dannevirke

Near Dannevirke, the weather started to deteriorate. The hills to the East were shrouded in some heavy-looking cloud, and rain was falling, no doubt to the delight of the farmers in this often drought-plagued region.

Greytown landmark in the maize

Nearer to home, at the North end of Greytown, there is an old shed in a field of maize. It presents different aspects at different times of the cropping cycle, and at different times of day. Most photographers in the area have probably given it a shot. I finally stopped and Mary didn’t actually roll her eyes as she got out her knitting. I liked the warm afternoon light and te height of the maize.

Well, it’s been a longer day than usual and I am still unsure about this “morning” thing.

April 21, 2014 … in sombre mood

As I write this, the Radio NZ Concert Programme is playing the 1812 Overture.

Napier beach, near the port. The slow exposure has flattened the short sharp waves

We have just arrived home after our very hasty trip to Napier. Somehow the mood of Tchaikovsky’s beautiful opening movements matches perfectly with my perception of the scenes I was taking yesterday. As I mentioned Mary and I had dashed up to Napier to be with Mary’s mother who had suffered a serious health set-back and we feared the worst for her. Happily she staged a come-back so for now, at least, all is well.  Mary sat with her mother and I went to the beach at marine parade to contemplate the meaning of life and to take pictures.

Looking South along the beach to Cape Kidnappers. Again the waves are flattened by the long exposure.

It’s a fearsome beach comprised of billions of small grey pebbles. It shelves very steeply and the relentless waves produce a tremendous backwash. It has claimed many lives over the years. This is a beach to look at rather than to swim at. However the grand sweep of Hawkes Bay from Cape Kidnappers in the South to the Mahia Peninsula in the North is a magnificent place for contemplation.

Westward into the setting sun, from the ridge above Taradale

Later in the day, I went up the road through Taradale, and from a ridge looked at the moody landscape to the West. I am quite unsure which ranges I am seeing in the distance … poring over a map leads me to believe they are the Glenross range and the Black Birch range.

More tomorrow.

April 20, 2014 … an unexpected journey

It all started normally enough.

The creek at Pauatahanui

Pauatahanui was largely unproductive, but I worked with this image of the creek behind Pauatahanui village. Peaceful, yet somehow unsatisfying.

Heavy cloud from the West

 

A crisis of health for an older family member required a sudden dash to Hawke’s Bay in the mid afternoon. Ugly weather seemed to be coming in from the West, and these clouds over the Tararuas were threatening as we approached Masterton.

Farmland near Woodville

A little after Woodville, there was a brief patch of sunshine over the rolling pastures.

We thought this would catch us for sure. It didn’t

Somewhere near Dannevirke I really thought we were going to catch it. The rain was falling and seemed to be following us. It never caught us and we got to Napier with almost no actual rain.

And that was the Northward leg of the journey.

January 13, 2014 … it’s not easy being green*

We’ve been here before, in good times and bad.

Though they are classified as “common”, I don’t recall seeing many grey teals before.

The Pekapeka wetlands just South of Hastings are very special. About this time last year, they were in the grip of a very serious drought, with scarcely any water. The next trip saw the water levels back to their normal state, but the bulrushes had died off and were brown and dry. This time, it was as if the drought had never been and the bulrushes (Raupo in Maori) were bigger and greener than ever. The big change was a massive infestation of pondweed, but it doesn’t seem to worry the birds. My first encounter was with a pair of grey teal (Anas gracilis) and I enjoyed the colour contrast.

This is a member of the grebe family.

In one of the few weed-free patches , I saw a solitary New Zealand dabchick (Poliocephalus rufopectus). This was probably an immature specimen, and it certainly was not engaging in the repetitive diving that I have seen on other visits. Instead, it seemed to be doing some stretching exercises and setting up ripples on the otherwise still water.

The weed parts as they swim through it. I was tempted to remove the white spots, but they are swan feathers and are part of the story, so they stayed.

Black swans (Cygnus atratus) were plentiful, if somewhat shy, and they were difficult to get close to. On the other hand, the distant view against the lurid green  was interesting anyway.

Elsewhere in the world, there would be dangerous predators. No snakes, no crocodiles here.

My last shot is of the vegetation in the wetlands. We have seen this log and its reflections before, but not with such prolific weed to add colour.

See you tomorrow.

*”Bein’ green” by Joe Raposo

January 12, 2014 … no goatherds up here

Getting to the top of Te Mata Peak on a mountain bike is no mean feat.

With the Hawkes Bay spread out before me

I never could do it, but admired the ease with which the very athletic man we were driving behind was achieving it. At the top I set up a four-shot panorama looking to the West and North. If you are familiar with the Hawkes Bay you will see Havelock North immediately in front of the hill, with Hastings City out beyond that. Over to the right, Napier is on the Coast and Clive is just on the nearer side and that the river on the right emerging from behind the railing is the Tukituki. You may get the impression that the hill drops away very steeply almost 400 metres to the valley below.

A few seconds earlier she was quite a way below us

This steep drop makes it a very attractive venue for the paragliding community  who like to launch from the top of the hill. As we arrived there were four enthusiasts preparing to do exactly that. From here it may be imagined that the only way to go is down. It is not so. Within a few seconds of launching each of the pilots in turn was rising rapidly, and I could hear the rising and falling tone of their electronic variometers telling them when they were in lift or in descending air. I imagine that they were making good use of the wave lift over the hill, though the day was warm enough for there to be thermal activity as well. I was a bit surprised that the young woman in the picture was flying cross-legged. Anyway, there were soon a bunch of paragliders circling very high above us.

The periodic raising and lowering of the “periscope” from different locations was comical to watch

In the afternoon while Mary was doing the family visit, I was turned loose in search of birds or other subjects of photographic interest. In all honesty I was not very successful yesterday. I saw fewer bird species than I have in the past, mainly black swans and shags. On the wetlands just South of the Napier airport, there were hundreds of black swans still guarding their grey fluffy offspring. A few ducks and gulls mingled but nothing that I regarded as a photograph. A squawking from the long grass on the other side of the track alerted me to the presence of some Pukeko or swamp hens (Porphyrio porphyrio). I think I must have been near a nest because there was a heightened degree of alarm, and every so often a red-tipped periscope would peer above the grass to see where I was.

I hoped it might have been the much rarer Cirl Bunting, but I am reasonably sure it is the yellow-hammer

Another close encounter was with a yellow-hammer (Emberiza citronella) which clung to a dried fennel stalk and eyed me warily.

Napier is a pretty city

From there I went out to Westshore, crossed the apparently disused Gisborne railway line, and from the pebble beach, looked back towards the city. It was a magnificent blue day, with just a few clouds.

These are beautiful to watch, though I gather they are unwanted invasive species

I am not sure what the temperature was, but there was a sufficient onshore wind to keep it pleasantly warm without going to extremes. Perhaps 26 degrees or so.  The wind was sufficient to induce a great deal of movement in the seed heads at the top of the beach.

Back home now, more tomorrow.

January 11, 2014 … into the darkness

So here we are in Clive again.

This is a very popular and very physical sport

Family duty brings us here every so often, and that is always an opportunity to explore the various wetlands around the area. Clive is pretty much at the place where four rivers arrive at the sea, the Tukituki, the Clive, the Ngaruroro and the Tutaekuri all arrive on the Pacific coast of the Hawkes Bay here. As well as the bird life that comes with four estuaries, there is great opportunity for recreation. Indeed citizens of Clive are eager to remind visitors that the Evers-Swindell twins (New Zealand Olympians) come form here. This weekend there seemed to be some sort of waka ama (outrigger canoe) event on the Clive River at the Evers-Swindell reserve.

Returning at last light

I was not very successful with the birdlife yesterday, so after an excellent and convivial dinner with Mary’s brother  and sister-in-law, we walked back to our motel via a lengthy detour down the river bank. The light was fading quickly and a flight of swans came in low and fast and the silhouettes appealed. I stretched the limits of a hand held nearly night shot.

Fennel

Coming back up a street beside the river, I liked the intricate lace work of the fennel growing beside the track.

The Clive war memorial

Arriving back in the village I saw yet another silhouette, this time the war memorial statue of the New Zealand soldier with his “lemon-squeezer” hat. Oncoming traffic is bound for Napier.

More tomorrow.