We spotted this insect on the door of our house. The white of the door made it difficult to get the insect into focus and I had to use the pro feature on my phone to isolate the subject. Quite pleased with the outcome.
I had a meeting at a school over in Raglan last week so made the most of being there to sneak a lunchtime walk. I don’t think I’ve seen the tide so high. I tried to get the movement of the waves as they washed over the step of sand just in front of the dunes and the light glimmering behind the clouds.
This was a dark evening in Christchurch down on Oxford Terrace which had recently been reopened after rebuilding work. I wanted to capture the translucency of the bridge and the arch against the dark of the night.
Photos at concerts are always difficult and never seem to work. Any that do tend to be pure luck! This is Tami Neilson and if you ever get a chance to see her, do it. She is amazing!
In Hamilton Gardens there is a new garden – the concept garden. To get in you go through a large yellow door that opens automatically as you approach. I was aiming to get a view through as they opened.
Week 22: Door. A symbol of transition, a door or a gate providing a passage way….
As I travel around NZ for work, I see some beautiful and interesting sites. I am currently working with a group of small primary schools in the Taumarunui area. The villages in which they are situated are fascinating. Many have seen better days when there was a bigger population and a vibrant community. I took this photo in the small village of Ongarue. Once a thriving township with a railway supported by the timber industry. The forestry work is much less than it used to be although it is having a wee bit of a renaissance as a result of the tourist trade. It is the starting point of the mountain bike track The Timber Trail. Some of the old buildings have been converted into accommodation for the bikers, it looks like there may also be a cafe in the summer months. Maybe this old rugby club building will be re-purposed?
I wonder what we would find if we went through that door? What memories of rugby games, of wins and losses, of tries nearly scored, of the well-timed pass and the try saving tackles? How many generations of boys and men played proudly for their village and how many marched away bravely to different sorts of battles never to return? What of their children and grandchildren? Where are they now? What of the lives of the womenfolk who supported tirelessly on the sidelines, prepared after match suppers and washed and dried woollen jerseys and socks? And, I am making assumptions here, maybe there was an Ongarue women’s team that broke through stereotypes and just as proudly as the men represented their town on the pitch?