Caught in a sunbeam

Amidst some scrubby bush by the river there was a small clearing, lit by a narrow beam of sunlight.  I was captivated by the spotlight effect.  It brought into stark contrast the fresh greens of a small whau (sounds like "foe") tree against a background of dark shade.  The leaves of whau are large and soft, the seedheads a dramatic spiky cluster - brown when mature.  The tree has an almost tropical lushness.

Whau (Entelia arborescens) is a New Zealand small tree which we don't see much in Wellington because it is unhappy in even moderate wind, and it prefers warmth and enough moisture - with our strong winds none of those preferences are reliably met!  The seeds are long-lived and profuse, ready to pop up in places where there is a new clearing, but it tends to be a transient with other plants eventually shading it and taking over.  The wood is very light - like balsa wood.  The whau tree can be very pretty with its clusters of creamy flowers and fresh lively green leaves, then a bit daunting with its clusters of spiky seedheads.

Rainbow falls, Kerikeri

More from my recent trip - fresh water for a change. 

Rainbow Falls (Waianiwaniwa) near Kerikeri in the Bay of Islands can be approached from above or below.  A 3.5 km walk (for a number of keen exercisers it was a run) from the Kerikeri Basin leads to the base of the falls.  It was a refreshing sight, framed by the bush - totara and kauri trees, manuka, treeferns - the textures and shapes contrasting with the brilliant sparkling cascade hurtling into the water - a popular swimming hole - at the base. Two young men provide scale, as they have fun on the slippery rocks behind the falling water.  The droplets of the mist create rainbows by refracting light when it falls on them at the right angle for this to happen - late afternoon I believe.  Another time!

The pattern of falling water, constantly shifting and changing, sparkling and churning, is for me a calming almost hypnotic delight to watch. 

This waterfall is 27m high, and is of the Kerikeri River.  It is apparently unusual for a New Zealand waterfall in that while most have formed when water has worn away soft rock, this water flows over hard basalt.  I'm pretty sure that columnar basalt is evident at the base where the men are emerging. 

They look tiny, but I assure you they were of normal stature.  Its a reminder of how we humans are pretty small in the scale of things.

Oysters and (Neptune's) pearls

When I visited Paihia I was most impressed by the spectacle of oyster encrusted rocks along the shore.  The native rock oyster (Saccostrea commercialis) is found in the northern North Island, certainly not as far south as Wellington.  But most of these shells are those of the Pacific oyster (Crassostrea gigas) which displaced the much smaller local oyster in commercial farming and dominate here, with their larger and sharper shells.  These stick to the rocks tenaciously so even when the oyster is long gone, there is a decorative and painfully memorable (for bare feet and unprotected legs) display.

Oyster encrusted rocks on the shore at Paihia Beach, looking out to Motumaire and Taylor Islands on a sunny late afternoon.  The oysters are protected from harvesting, but seagulls heed no rules!

This is a red-billed seagull, Chroicocephalus scopulinus, a smaller gull which is a New Zealand native, tarapunga or akiaki in Maori.  There is an Australian gull of very similar appearance but apparently they are not closely related.  Like all gulls, it is a scavenger and - new word to me - a kleptoparasite - stealers of food from other gulls or from other species - including unwary eaters of fish and chips on the waterfront.  Anyway, this one was having a more gourmet snack. 

I noticed some brown algae - seaweeds - growing on and around the oyster zone, and was taken by the idea of luxury suggested by the following combination...

One of the common names given to the brown alga Hormosira banksii is "Neptune's pearls."  It is also called Neptune's necklace and sea grapes.  It does look like strings of beads to me, the hollow beads varying in colour depending on the conditions, but generally being olive brown and never opalescent.  Nevertheless, I see oysters and pearls! (and when I can pick the brains of a friendly phycologist, I will be able to write about another brown alga which also made lovely patterns on the shore.)

Summer - flowers and flies!

December is here, so it is summer time even though the weather doesn't seem to know.  It is a green time still - there has been enough rain to compensate for the wind, although the forecast is for a dry summer.  So there has been plenty of growth and flowering going on, and with all this luscious plant-life the beasties are much more in evidence...

The greenish yellow iridescent sheen of a blowfly's thorax harmonises well with the bright yellowish green of a parsley plant with its umbels of little green buds and foaming of tiny white and yellow flowers. 

Parsley is such a useful herb and very easy to grow.  It is slow to germinate, and it can be a bit difficult to keep producing a supply of the tasty and decorative leaves because it is a biennial (at least in temperate zones). In the first year it forms a dense clump of leaves - curly or flat depending on the type - which are such a good source of vitamins and minerals as well as being a familiar garnish.  The parsley plant forms a deep taproot and, in the second year, the tall stalks which bear the umbels of flowers.  The leaves are sparse at this stage and after the profuse seed is set, the plants die. 

In my wilderness that I call a garden I am very happy to let parsley go to seed and then establish itself where it will, although it can be a bit of a thug if it gets too close to other wanted plants.  But in leaf, then flower and seed, it is a lovely sight.  As for flies, they do fill an important function in the cycle of life and decay, even if most of them are not remotely as decorative as this particular one. 

The parsley flowers when opening - a delicate almost lacy pattern. 

Parhelion ("sundog") at Paihia

On a peaceful misty morning in Paihia, a sight sent me to my copy of "The Cloud Collector's Handbook" by Gavin Pretor-Pinney.  Despite its name, this little book isn't about a delusional acquisition problem - he writes, "You don't have to own something to collect it.  You don't even have to hold it.  You just have to notice it and record it."  His book is one of the official publications of The Cloud Appreciation Society - www.cloudappreciationsociety.org.  Rather than ticking boxes, it helps me with the act of appreciation - learning and better understanding about the weather and the clouds which make such wonderful patterns in the sky.  But this was not a cloud...

That bright spot of light is a sundog, or parhelion - from the Greek, meaning "beside the sun."  These are a "halo" phenomenon caused by refraction of sunlight through ice crystals in the thin layers of high clouds.  Sundogs appear on one or both sides of the sun and are level with it, and are brightest when the sun is low in the sky.  They are reddish coloured on the side facing the sun.  When I saw this one it was early morning and all was still - the mist was low, the water was calm, and the colours were soft and muted.  So the sundog was a striking sight.

The wider view - a sundog and associated high cloud over Paihia looking towards Russell, the very small and picturesque Taylor Island, and the usually-busy wharf.

Swords into ploughshares

I chanced upon this sculpture in Russell, a historic settlement in the Bay of Islands across the bay from Paihia.  The plaque beside it read:

"SWORDS INTO PLOUGHSHARES

The Pou-ihi is a cultural recognition of conservation and its value in Maori society.  The Tangata whenua (Maori people) with the assistance of the Maori and South Pacific Arts Council 1988 gifted this carving to the Bay of Islands Maritime and Historic Park. 

The pillar or Pou-ihi shows only half a person, Rongo who represents the portion of people who recognise and uphold the values of conservation.  Rongo's upraised left arm holds a ko (digging stick) which symbolises the concepts and instruments that will bring about the healing of Papatuanuku (Mother Earth). 

The carving faces west so that symbolically like the sun it rises to shine the light of conservation knowledge upon those in darkness."

Russell, originally Kororareka, is a small and picturesque settlement which was a site of early contact between Maori and tauiwi (nonMaori) from the early 1800's. With a mixed bunch of arrivals - whalers, sailors, missionaries, escaped convicts from Australia, settlers - it had a reputation as a lawless and disreputable port ("the Hellhole of the Pacific"), but it was also a place where prayerbooks in Maori were printed and bound.  Nearby, just across the water, was the setting for the signing on February 6 1840 of the Treaty of Waitangi between the British crown and Maori people, recognising Maori ownership of their lands and other properties and guaranteeing them the rights of British subjects.  Russell was too unsavory in reputation so the first  capital was established (briefly) nearby but then moved to Auckland.  There was subsequent conflict that led to the sacking of Russell in 1845, but the church and mission were spared and still survive, and there are also a number of colonial buildings along the waterfront. 

Nowadays it is a little port for tourists, big game fisherfolk, holidaymakers, and passengers who ferry in from very large cruise ships.  It is a pretty place to visit, and a suitable place to think about conservation and how we live together and care for our environment. 

This sculpture sat quietly in a little park, a rather subtle reminder of big issues that we all face.

A taste of summer - tui and pohutukawa

The North Island is, according to Maori legend, Te Ika a Maui - a fish hooked and landed by Maui which transformed into this land.  Wellington is at the southern end, the head of Maui's fish - Te Upoko o Te Ika a Maui.  It was a very large fish indeed - te ika nui a Maui! - and it is long - about 830km (515 miles).  So when I headed up north for a visit to Paihia, I was travelling a decent distance and to a warmer and more subtropical climate - how I love balmy evenings!

The pohutukawa (Metrosideros excelsa) is also known as the New Zealand Christmas tree because it flowers around Christmas time with a glorious display of crimson flowers.  It is a coastal plant, and grows well even when located precariously holding on to rocky cliffs - and because Christmas here is in our summer, the colourful display is associated with sunny days and blue skies and holidays at the beach.  Some pohutukawa were already out at Paihia beach, and tui song was also in evidence.  When I went closer I could see a lot of movement within the tree, but what was going on?

Can you see it?  A tui - and it was one of many!  Not exactly hiding, just busy feeding - tui belong to the "honeyeaters" group of birds, and there surely was a lot of nectar to be consumed - I could see a lot of honeybees there too.  A bold bird and a bold floral display - and a foretaste of the delights of December.

Purple poppy pollinator

A sumptuous double purple poppy (Papaver species) dwarfs a honeybee (Apis mellifera) busily and successfully foraging, as evidenced by its well-filled pollen basket - the pale bulge visible on a leg.  It had been burrowing in the folds of the crinkly petals to access some parts of the large central boss of stamens, and has emerged before another foray into the depths of the flower.

The vibrant colour of the flower and the depth and complexity of the petal forms and the wealth of stamens all add to a sense of bounty and richness. 

Really ruggedly rocky

Sometimes, in the odd light of winds and storm fronts, the south coast can look like strange and alien territory...

And even in the brighter light of calmer skies, the rock formations can appear stark and forbidding. 

Beached seaweeds litter the gravelly beach - this kelp makes a graceful wave pattern, much gentler than the waves which washed it up...

But in death, this kelp and other seaweeds soften the harsh environment and provide sustenance for plants that live only a short distance further from the tide...

The pretty pink flowers and bright green leaves of Calystegia soldanella - known by many names, as it is found in the temperate regions of both Northern and Southern hemispheres, it is a scrambling perennial vine which lives on shorelines.  The Maori name is pohue, a descriptive English name is the sand bindweed - but this is even less hospitable than sand...somehow this plant manages to find enough sustenance for survival, even thriving.

The seaweed, displaced from its marine home, has helped to create a new home for a very different plant on this apparently unwelcoming gravel shore.