More from Otari - crimson rata at the Cockayne Lookout

Leonard Cockayne was an important early botanist in New Zealand whose work included studies of our native vegetation.  One of the sites honouring his work is the Cockayne Lookout.  On a terrace above a steep bank, its view covers some of the Otari Native Botanic Garden plant collections and the Wilton's Bush Reserve with its stand of original forest and extensive areas of regenerating native bush.

The tall walls of the lookout and terrace are clothed by the climbing crimson rata (Metrosideros carminea) which is a forest liane, or vine.  It grows vigorously - 15 metres or more, up tree trunks and cliffs, and it spreads in the way ivy does by clinging to rough surfaces.  So it can make dense cover as seen here, over the whole surface of these substantial walls.  Now in full spring flower, I think it is like a crimson cloak with a thick red fringe at the top.

The flowers have a starry appearance with their long red stamens topped by golden pollen, and nectar-filled yellow centres.  Before they had all opened it was easier to see the individual flowers.

This photo, taken ten days earlier, shows the tight unfurled buds and the little glossy green leaves before they were obscured by the sheer profusion of fully open flowers.

The flowering of the golden kowhai is coming to an end as the crimson rata is coming into flower.  It is much appreciated by nectar loving birds and insects, and it is not hard to see why it is popular with humans too, as a most decorative garden plant.

Winter-weathered wings - a Yellow Admiral butterfly

A happy sight - a Yellow Admiral butterfly (Kahukowhai in Maori) feeding on the blue flowers of Echium candicans.  It is just spring but the wings of this individual look worn and weathered - the Yellow Admiral are quite long-lived butterflies and some overwinter, as I imagine this one has. 

The large spot on the wings is usually yellow - hence the name - but this one looked white to me, maybe bleached by weathering.  The Yellow Admiral (Vanessa itea) is a New Zealand native also found in Australia, Lord Howe and Norfolk Islands.  It is a strong flier, thought to often make the crossing between Australia and New Zealand over the Tasman Sea. 

This one was taking its time on a rather wind-flattened flowering stalk, visiting the little blue flowers and having a good drink with its long black tongue.  So I was able to get close up.

Showing the rather hairy face and body and warm colours of the upper wings - the under wings are a duller and more intricate pattern, but the position and lighting meant that they cannot be seen in these photos.

While I have plenty of nectar bearing flowers in my garden, providing food for the butterflies, I don't have the food that is required by their caterpillars - native or introduced nettle plants.  Not the most welcome addition to a garden!  But people are planting them to help restore the populations of Yellow Admirals, which are under threat from introduced wasps, insecticides, loss of habitat - the usual suspects.  Perhaps I had better source some nettles...

Fresh colours of spring

To me, the fresh new foliage of deciduous trees is one of the delights of spring.  In Hataitai Park there is a mixture of exotic and native trees and together they make a particularly lovely display - soft clouds of emerging leaves in bright green and amber contrast with the dark green evergreens and slender silvery shapes of the trunks and branches.

This park adjoins Wellington's Town Belt so is part of this precious swathe of green which provides a setting for sporting venues and casual recreational activities, and even for filming - a segment in the first film of the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy was filmed in the Town Belt.

Plant awareness problems - a gruesome sight

Oh dear.  What were they thinking?  I still get a shock when I see plants treated like this.

"Landscaping" seen outside a local fast food outlet - ranks of Astelia chathamica planted way too closely to start with, then later chopped back into stumpy clumps.

Astelia chathamica is a popular garden plant, often described as "architectural" because of the drama of its long flax-like leaves with their gorgeous silvery sheen, grouped in a large imposing clump.  Alas, it is often planted when still small, a tidy fan of silver and soft green.  And we tend to plant allowing for things as they are, not planning adequately for what they will grow into.  I have certainly made that mistake. 

If the initial planting is made to fill the space in a pleasing way, then things will likely get too crowded quite quickly as the plants grow.  Some plants will have to be removed to make room to allow those that remain to grow naturally.  Pruning - cutting plants so they grow more as we want them to - is another way of managing plant growth.  But if we want healthy and happy plants, then planting and pruning should take account of how the plant grows. 

This is what Astelia chathamica, given the chance, will grow to look like - a more upright one...

Or a more spreading one...

They are big, bold, and eye-catching.  These plants are growing in the Otari Native Botanic Garden in Wellington.  They are in mixed plantings and take centre stage. 

The leaves are long, dramatic, elegant, and somewhat messy.  Cutting them back stops them from growing and they will ever be stumps - I think of them as being like partially amputated arms.  If allowed, new leaves will grow from the base, and look very odd as they straggle above their chopped back predecessors.  What a mess - and I am guessing that the chopping back was an attempt to "tidy" them!

I have a theory that many people don't even think of plants as living things, let alone recognise them as critical for our survival.  And not noticing how things grow leads to mistakes like this kind of pruning.  I regard this kind of mutilation as a gruesome sight, and a reminder of how mindless we can be.  While in this case it is really just an aesthetic issue, such mindlessness can actually be devastating for the living world around us.

Ephemeral beauty - the spring blossom of Prunus 'Awanui'

The blush pink blossom of Prunus 'Awanui' is out at present, defying the changeable weather and delighting me with its ephemeral beauty - rather romanticised by my treatment of this image.

This lovely flowering cherry was selected by New Zealander Keith Adams who found it amongst a collection of cherries he had planted on his land.  At the time he ran a nursery, and the property was by Awanui Street in New Plymouth, hence the name.  It seems to be a robust tree, and has quite horizontal branches, giving it a graceful appearance.  It is cloaked with flowers well before the leaves appear.  There is a lightness about the tree in blossom even though the flowering is profuse. 

As the linked article describes, Keith Adams has lived a very full and interesting life.  In contrast to the delicacy of the cherry blossom he discovered is the image of his expeditions to find tropical rhododendrons (Vireyas) in dense jungles.  This reflected his love of the plants and, it would seem, his adventurous nature.  In the article he is described as asserting a principled attitude to collecting - taking seed or cuttings only and definitely not taking the plant.  Admirable, I think.  Desecration of plant populations has been a legacy of some plant collectors.

For me the pleasure of seeing this lovely tree is somehow enhanced by the unexpected associations conjured up by reading about its discoverer.

Red alert - Kaka beak (Clianthus) - brilliant and endangered

Spring is such a time of contrasts.  It has been wet, windy and grey for a couple of days but when I visited Otari at the beginning of the week it was bright and colourful - and there was an arresting sight.

Along a trellis fence, a sprawling shrub of Kaka beak (Clianthus, or Kowhai ngutukaka in Maori) was covered with dangling clusters of its distinctive bright red flowers.  Their claw-like shape has been likened to the beak of a parrot, and the kaka is a native parrot - hence the name.

Appreciated as a garden plant, it has become very endangered in the wild - introduced plants and animals compete with it and consume it.

Of the two species, in the wild C. puniceus was found only on Moturemu Island on the Kaipara Harbour, and C. maximus was found mostly around Lake Waikaremoana.  The number of C. maximus plants was down to 153 in 2005! 

The kaka beak plant has been the focus of conservation efforts.  Plants were fenced to protect them from browsing animals and replanting was undertaken.  Local hapu, with the Department of Conservation, established Nga Tipu a Tane ki Waikaremoana nursery at Te Kura o Waikaremoana School, in the Lake Waikaremoana area.  Along the East Cape local schools were involved in roadside planting.  Animal repellant sprays were developed and used to protect plants.  Fortunately it produces seed which is long-lived, germinating when land where it has fallen is disturbed.  It also copes with poor soil - as a member of the legume family it can fix nitrogen from the atmosphere, via the symbiotic root bacteria within the root nodules, producing nitrogen compounds that help the plant to grow.

I don't know what the situation is today, but DoC information suggests that kaka beak is still growing on Moturemu Island in the Kaipara harbour, and at several sites on the East Cape, in Te Urewera National Park, near Wairoa, and in Boundary Stream Mainland Island in Hawkes Bay. 

When we humans jeopardise the future of living things which we can see and appreciate, we can be reminded of our impact.  That is much more difficult if the endangered plant or animal is shy or subtle - and in New Zealand we have a great many in that situation.  So this plant is something of a conservation alert for us all, in its eye-catching brilliance.

Tui on kowhai

Late afternoon at Otari Native Botanic Garden in spring - pretty colourful given that the colours of NZ native plants are generally quite muted.  The textures and shapes of the grasses, shrubs and trees add interest too, here in a small corner looking beyond to Wilton's Bush and regenerating growth on the hills.

The golden kowhai flowers are profuse, and they attract a lot of agile and noisy tui hungry for the nectar.  Images of tui on kowhai in bloom are a bit of a cliche, but still an engaging sight.  This one was very active, but in a moment between drinks was still enough to display its bright eyes, white collar feathers and neck tuft, and the lovely blue green iridescent sheen of the otherwise black-looking feathers.

Then it was back to work, stretching its neck up to sip the nectar from the base of a kowhai flower...

What's this then?  Was it the click of the shutter, or other tui approaching - the tui was on alert again.

Seen from below the white neck tuft and collar feathers do suggest a clerical collar - early European settlers called it the Parson Bird.  But I think tui lack the seriousness which that name suggests - for me they are great entertainers even though they are just going about their lives. 

Eyes to the skies (still!) - spring weather watch

Spring is delivering its very changeable weather and the fierce equinoxial winds which are particularly tough on soft new plant growth.  People feel battered by the wind too, but at least we have a pleasurable way of trying to read the weather.  Looking to the sky we can see the drama of the ever-shifting clouds.

A long white lenticular cloud glowing over Wellington harbour tells us that there are fast winds in action.

And a golden halo hovers above a hill by Owhiro Bay on Wellington's south coast - a pink sunset and a promise of a fine day to come.  No matter how frustrating I find the weather at this time of year, I am energised quite simply by looking up to the spectacle of the sky.

After the storm - a different drama

The storm is over - the winds have settled and the sea is calm.  Last night, high cloud had not yet cleared.  And another drama unfolded.

Golden light as the sun sets behind the hills of the south coast, seen from Princess Bay and looking towards Island Bay in the distance.  Sunbeams like this are called crepuscular rays because they are typically seen at dawn or dusk (crepusculum is Latin for twilight) when the contrast between dark and light is most obvious.  I knew, when I saw the blanket of high cloud, that there would be more colour in the sky as the sun set further.  And there was...

A wider view, looking towards the South Island.  The silhouette of Taputeranga is in the middle distance, the South Island glimpsed in the distant haze.  A much more delightful drama than the storms.

Pink before the storm

Yesterday morning's soft spring sunrise - so pretty.  But close behind, a southerly storm...

Pastel colours over the hills behind Owhiro Bay on Wellington's south coast.  Down on the coast, the silhouetted South Island could be seen framed by the darker clouds and tints of the storm front, which brought gales and heavy rain a few hours later.  Pink morning skies often seem to fit the "red sky in the morning shepherds' warning" weather prediction.  Spring, changeable weather, dynamic skies - there is a lot of energy around!