Golden summer, golden autumn?

No rain yet, and hardly a puff of wind til today.  Last night the evening stillness probably contributed to the soft misty look of the sea and the coast.  The colours were pastel - the sea a baby blue and the sky a delicate pink.  Then just before sunset the sunlight seemed to become focused, and golden sunbeams bathed the rocky outcrops and grasses of Princess Bay on Wellington's south coast.

The misty conditions will have added to the spectacle - a haze of gold.  It lasted barely a minute, and then the sun went behind the hills, and the colours faded.  I have visited and photographed Princess Bay more times than I can count and there is always something new to be seen and appreciated.  

Jewel-like colours of Abel Tasman National Park

Our summer is officially over now that it is early March - and instead of relentless sunny days the sky has been grey today - but still no rain!  While waiting for the further sunny days that are forecast, I decided to delight the eyes with the almost unnaturally bright colours of sunny days at Abel Tasman - as the park is generally referred to.  (He was a Dutch explorer who was in charge of the first European expedition to sight New Zealand - in 1642 - and it was from the Dutch Zeeland that we got our name.) 

To start - a corner of the beach at Anchorage on a bright summer day with the typical golden sand, dense native bush (forest) and the somewhat emerald hue of the water when it is shallow.

Next, the greens of backlit ferns, framed by silhouetted tree ferns - seen on a bush walk between Anchorage and Torrent Bay.  The native bush in this area is quite lovely, with lots of ferns, kiekie, rata, kanuka, akeake, mahoe and some black beech.  I love the patterns and textures of fern fronds, and was taken by the bright light making such a strong contrast - to my eyes almost like a stained glass window.

Last, a view of the tidal flats by Marahau, at the southern end and beginning of the Coastal Track.  The sandy flats are great for horseriding. 

The rich blue of the sea and the reflections of the sky in the shallow water on the sand contrasts with the golden sand and the dark green of the bush on the headland and islands.

The colours of Marahau in the bright light of early evening.

Canada geese - the downside of success

A gentle summer's evening and the tide was out - a long way.  There are extensive tidal flats along the coastline of the Abel Tasman National Park at the top of the South Island.  These intertidal areas are sandy, not muddy, so are great for walking and for bird watching.  The park is famous for the Coast Track which passes through original and regenerating forest along a beautiful coastline with interesting rock formations, golden sand and very clear water - and the tidal flats.  On the sand close to the southern park entrance, a group of Canada geese appeared to be doing a sedate dance...

These rather handsome birds were unflapped by the arrival of humans, no hiss honk or hassle - which is what I generally expect from geese.  As their name suggests, Canada geese (Branta canadensis) originated in North America.  They got to Europe without assistance but were deliberately introduced to New Zealand as game birds.  It's the usual story - there was population decline in their native range because of overhunting, habitat destruction and so on.  This was successfully countered with breeding programmes and conservation measures.  But Canada geese have been too successful in establishing in some new territories.  They are plant eaters and their impact on crops and pastures - damage, droppings, and the bacteria in their droppings - has made them a problem in some parts of New Zealand to the extent that in 2011 the government changed their status from protected.  They are "fair game".  They also tend to form large noisy groups with pestiferous confrontational behaviour.  But these ones maintained a dignified imperturbability.   

In the subdued light the golden colour of the sand is not very evident, but it can be seen in the shoreline rocks which will gradually erode to form the sand.  The black patterns on some of the rocks are clusters of little developing mussels. 

The rocks are of "Separation Point" granite - it tends to erode readily, creating the many interesting rock formations along the coast as well as the lovely sand.

Waikoropupu springs and protecting the pristine

Golden Bay, named for the golden sand of the beaches along its coast, is on the northwest edge of New Zealand's South Island.  There is just one road in, over the Takaka Hill - a range of hills, actually, about 800m at the highest point.  It is a dramatic place - weathered marble, sinkholes and caves - some very deep, strange rock formations, and underground rivers.  Unsurprisingly, it was apparently used as a location for some filming for the "Lord of the Rings". 

Just west from the Takaka Hill are the Waikoropupu Springs - the largest freshwater springs in New Zealand and the largest cold water springs in the Southern Hemisphere.  The clarity of the water is remarkable - the underwater visibility has been measured as 63 metres.  The only place with clearer water is under the Weddell Sea in Antartica.  The clarity of this water results from a prolonged period of filtration as it travels in underground channels through the limestone rock of the Takaka Valley.  At the springs the water wells up with considerable force, and in some areas you can see the sand and stones of the lake floor dancing with the water movement.  The plants growing underwater are so easily seen they look much closer than they are, like a colourful garden. 

The beauty of the springs did not trump gold fever.  In the late 1850's prospectors burned and cleared the surrounding plant cover - which would have been mature lowland forest - and constructed water races to channel water from the springs to sluice for gold.  Numerous water races and sluice channels remind us of the damaging (and futile in this case) gold fever of the past, and they are only partially obscured by renewed plant growth.  Almost none of the original forest remains in this area - damage to the bush continued into the 1970's.  The reserve around the springs reveals different stages of forest development as regrowth occurs, with signage that explains this fragile process. 

Sigh.  How thoughtless and foolish we can be if our preoccupation is just what we can take from the land!  How we treat the land is greatly affected by our beliefs and priorities...  The Maori perspective protected the water from contamination because it was seen as sacred.  But they were not in control, and people were allowed to dive in the water of the springs until the threat of contamination was extremely tangible and disturbing in the form of an alien invasion - Didymo (Didymosphenia geminata) a freshwater diatom. 

Charmingly called "rock snot" this revolting pest (and I am delighted by most plants!) began to invade the rivers in the South Island from 2004.  It is extremely difficult to stop the spread, and a great deal of effort is being expended to control it.  Under the Biosecurity Act 1993, the entire South Island is a Controlled Area, which means people are legally obliged to prevent the spreading of didymo and face penalties to the tune of $100,000 in fines or 5 years in jail if they knowingly infringe. 

And it seems that this was the trigger - at last, the protection of the springs was taken really seriously.  This is now the official rule - "The waters of Te Waikoropupu Springs, including Fish Creek and Springs River, are closed to all forms of contact (including fishing, swimming, diving, wading, boating and drinking the water) to safeguard water quality and to respect cultural values."  Serious protection of what I too see as a treasure.

Dawn redwood - a visitor from the past

I have been thinking about the impact of introduced plants, and this was brought into focus again by the role of gorse in the fire at Owhiro Bay.  Then today I heard an interesting interview with ornithologist and author Glen Chilton about the impact of "alien invaders" - plants and animals introduced for various reasons into a variety of countries.  Amongst other things I learned that a number of African grasses were introduced to Australia (in the 1930's) and that they have intensified the nature, intensity and impact of fires there - which are on a huge and terrible scale compared to the little local fire which set off my musings.  I had no idea!  What a cocktail - flammable native plants plus exotic grasses which greatly add to the risk, intensity and damage caused by fires, and now changing climate and record high temperatures...

Fortunately there are many exotic plants which have not caused problems (so far) and it has been a great joy for me to experience some of them.  One is the dawn redwood - Metasequoia glyptostroboides.  It is often called a "living fossil" because it is a survivor from the Mesozoic era - dinosaur time!  Fossil records show that it was widespread in the Northern Hemisphere then.  It is not clear why a small forest survived - in China, in Lichuan county in southwestern Hubei province.  But it did, and we can experience a connection with that time in the form of this beautiful deciduous conifer.

It was in the 1940's that there was a curious flurry of recognition and discovery for the dawn redwood - Shigeru Miki of Japan reclassified fossils as coming from a separate species which he named Metasequoia, and Chinese foresters discovered unfamiliar trees subsequently identified as of this species, until then considered to be extinct.  In the late 1940's and early 1950's seeds were distributed to arboreta and botanical gardens.  It has proven to be a fast-growing and beautiful tree.  This one in Queen's Park in Nelson is seen in the golden light of a summer's evening.  This emphasises the lovely sculptured trunk, the reddish bark and the very attractive fresh green leaves with the lighter coloured drooping clusters of pollen cones.

It is quite extraordinary to think that this lovely tree links us with the very distant past, when our ancestor mammals were tiny mouse-like creatures - maybe they scurried up trees like this to avoid being squashed by enormous dinosaur feet?

A sunny dry summer...and fire

Well, when I said I would be posting again on February 21st I had no idea that circumstances would be rather dramatic.  In the low light just before sunrise the flames seemed particularly threatening. 

A fire began during the night in the scrub on a hillside by Owhiro Bay - on the opposite side of the valley to the houses in this image.  They were not threatened but houses closer to the fire were, and people had to be evacuated. Nobody was hurt and there was no damage to any houses.  The firefighters - people and helicopters - had a lot of work to do, evident in the bright daylight.

The fire-blackened vegetation on several ridges can be seen behind the smoke.  There were three red helicopters in action (how small they look!) and one is emptying its water bucket by a stand of pine trees which seem to have been spared.  Then it is off to refill...

A helicopter approaches Owhiro Bay to refill its bucket, flying low and scooping the seawater.

The fire was fuelled by the dry scrub, especially the very flammable yellow-flowered gorse, of which there is a great deal over the steep hills. Oils in the gorse plant apparently make it difficult to put out the fire. Gorse was brought to New Zealand by British settlers who used it as a hedging plant, and seemed to have some fondness for it - this is puzzling as it is a thorny and threatening thing close up!  But it has been wildly successful - in other words it is a weed, a plant thug.  However, in the harsh environment of the south coast it does provide some shelter for native plants to grow and emerge.   

We have had an unusually sunny and dry summer - very pleasant for people unless they are farmers or growers of fruit and vegetables.  But thank goodness, some rain is forecast tonight.

Working on the website

A spider's web on the zigzag branchlets of a Muehlenbeckia astonii shrub - a New Zealand native plant I have previously featured.  The image is heavily vignetted - I hope it helps to make the fine strands of the web more visible against the busy clutter of the many tiny leaves and flowers and reddish divaricating stems. Glistening raindrops outline some of the strands.  It has been raining but the sun is coming out.

I am wanting to work on the structure of the website, but lacking the web building skill of a spider I will be taking a bit of time, so there won't be any new posts till 21 February. 

While you won't see any major changes at first, I am wanting to add to what I am offering. In the meantime, there are quite a few old posts that may be of interest again. 

I really really welcome any feedback - what brought you here? what interests you?  is there anything you would like more of? 

Most of all, thanks for visiting and welcome back on 21st Feb!

Summer fog

We have had a prolonged period of beautiful bright sunny weather with almost no wind.  This is very special for Wellingtonians and we tend to flock outside, and especially to the beach, given such a chance - our summers are not always all that warm.  But very little wind can mean odd things happening - on a bright still day a very localised fog suddenly appeared, coming in from the south...

Looking up Island Bay suburb - normally we can see steep hills and houses, but there was just a white blanket. The bay, island, and headland opposite were also completely obscured by dense whiteness - not a very interesting image to post.  This reminded me of another fog exactly three years ago.

That time the fog rolled in on top of the hills.  It was a sunny evening rather than mid-day, but again something from the south was interacting with the warm conditions - it is never particularly humid here, so I am not sure where the moisture was coming from and why it was condensing in this pattern.

It continued in, to cover the hills just like this year's fog.  In the news a person from the meteorological service explained that sea fog is caused when warm air flowing over the cold ocean is cooled, and the moisture (carried in the warm air? or via evaporation from the water caused by the warmth?) condenses.  I can see that the patterns of air movement are important in shaping the fog, but I am puzzled by why it is so localised.  It still seems like another of nature's mysteries for me to learn about!

Te Raekaihau Point sunset finale - fireworks

As with so many things, patience is rewarded.  It is worth waiting after the first blaze of colour and watching the process that unfolds - after the sun goes below the horizon, the sunset reddens...

As with so many things, patience is rewarded.  It is worth waiting after the first blaze of colour and watching the process that unfolds - after the sun goes below the horizon, the sunset reddens...The sun has set over the South Island, in silhouette in the distance.  Taputeranga, the island of Island Bay, is in darker silhouette closer to a rocky outcrop at Te Raekaihau, the vantage point for this image. 

More sunset sightings - photographers at Te Raekaihau Point

Enjoying the evening at Te Raekaihau Point we watched the unfolding of a vividly colourful sunset.  I also enjoy the more subtle colours in the sky facing the sunset, and was admiring the golden light on a rocky outcrop and the pink sky above Baring Head.  This is a crop of a much larger image - although I saw some movement I couldn't see the photographers until I looked at my photograph at high magnification.  This is a bit like a sighting of a rare beast which blends into the scenery!  I have captured a photographer with what looks like a view or field camera on a long-legged tripod - but I'm not completely sure about this.  The stance of the other photographer is more effective for camouflage.

Such film cameras are rarely seen, especially in this digital era.  The large size of the film used in field cameras can give exquisitely detailed images.  But the cameras are cumbersome and the process of using them is different, a measured, thoughtful and almost meditative process requiring more deliberate learning and skills, than what is required to use the remarkably easy and able digital cameras we are now blessed with.  There is plenty of room for both approaches to photography - the thoughtfulness and observation involved in carefully choosing how the image is going to be made, as well as the happy ease of being able to click away and get pleasing images regardless of knowledge and skill levels.  Using a tripod is just that little bit more hassle, although you can get carbon fibre ones that are very stable and very light (and very expensive!), but using one means that you are slowing down a bit, maybe thinking a bit more, and can maximise the possible quality of the image.  On this occasion I was in casual mode - it was a lovely evening, I didn't have my tripod and relied on the fact that digital sensors are so much more light sensitive than the films I used to use - even in my middle-aged digital camera - and I wasn't trying to get a perfect shot.  There were plenty of people who were using cellphones and other small cameras, and other photographers who appeared to be waiting with more serious purpose...

The sun is just about to set, and the colours are bright and intensifying.  Most of the humans on the Point seemed to be paying attention.  No surprise that phenomena involving the sun seem to have a special pull for us - after all, this is the star we all depend on!