Another toutouwai on Wilkinson's Track, Kapiti Island.Update: Just published a new post on Pohanginapete (at last).
All content © 2009 Pete McGregor
Another toutouwai on Wilkinson's Track, Kapiti Island.
This was the inquisitive weka mentioned in the previous post. Sunday 26 April 2009; Kapiti Island.
On Kapiti Island last Sunday the weka (Gallirallus australis) we encountered seemed largely preoccupied with fossicking among the leaf litter and — in the case of this bird — the wrack along the shore. Only one bird lived up to the species' reputation by sprinting from the undergrowth to investigate the packs we'd placed on the ground (securely closed, I hasten to add).
So many people take no notice of starlings or consider them a nuisance or vermin. Yet, look closely, particularly when they're in breeding plumage, like this bird, and it's hard to remain unimpressed. Listen carefully, too, and be astonished at their ability to mimic a wide range of calls of other bird species. If these were rare birds, a sighting like this would be celebrated not simply because it was rare, but for the sheer brilliance of the bird.
He lives alone in a small hut beyond the small temple at Kolpeshwar, which in turn lies beyond the small village of Urgam in the Indian Himalaya. He has a Masters degree in engineering and speaks impeccable English, but these simple facts are not the remarkable things about him.
January 2007. During the day and late into the night, Jaisalmer's archetypal India: crowded, noisy, jostling, intense. But early in the morning, as the shops have just begun to open and the tourists are (mostly) still recovering, there's an almost eerie quiet which an occasional motorcycle accentuates rather than destroys.
May 2007. The Nyika Plateau in Malawi was one of the few places — perhaps the only one — I felt any sense of remoteness during my 7–8 months overseas. Twilight is brief here, and as the light began to fade I felt torn between the desire to find my destination before dark and the urge to photograph. Somehow, I almost managed both.
Yesterday was one of the best days one could hope for in autumn. I took the camera when I biked up No. 2 Line late in the afternoon and at one point stopped and did nothing. Just looked and listened. The silence — not even a rustle of wind in the long roadside grasses — seemed like a pause in Time.
Dawn on the Ngakanohi glacier (prominently lit by the sun) and the Mueller valley, photographed from Sefton Biv in February 2006. Aoraki/Mt Cook National Park; a Nor'west storm developing.
Don't ask me how it got its name (but if you know for sure, please let me know). Photographed in February 2006 from the NZ Alpine Club's Unwin lodge as a Nor'west storm brewed.
The Hooker Valley lies immediately West of the Mt Cook range and East of the Main Divide of the Southern Alps. A short, easy walk from the carpark takes one to a lookout on White Horse hill offering a good view of the terminal moraines of the Mueller Glacier (debouching from the left) and the Hooker Glacier (the massive wall directly ahead), and the small, eerie lake.
Winter can be difficult. It can also be wonderful, particularly when it offers the opportunity to climb in conditions like these. That's Girdlestone, a subsidiary summit of Ruapehu, in the background. We climbed it on a brilliant day in August 2005.
This is what autumn feels like here in the Pohangina valley. Well, sometimes... right now as I prepare this for posting this evening (when I'll be elsewhere) it's sunny and cloudless. Even the blowflies are becoming active. So should I.
Honka-dori (sometimes spelled as one word: honkadori) is a Japanese term referring to the way an artist alludes to an older work. The context is usually poetry, but seems to have a wider application: artist/photographer Hiroshi Sugimoto, one of whose photos appears on the cover of U2's No Line on the Horizon, says "In Japanese cultural traditions, the act of emulating works of great predecessors is called honka-dori, "taking up the melody. Not scathed as mere copying, it is regarded as a praiseworthy effort." I suppose, therefore, this photo could be considered honka-dori, although I had no conscious knowledge of Sugimoto's photo when I pressed the shutter release at Flounder Bay in June 2008.
Dawn, looking South from the top of Shorts Track on the Ngamoko Range, the southern Ruahine in the distance. A little over three weeks ago.
Terry in his natural habitat. This was back in January 2005, when Terry, Lance and I climbed Mts Wakeman and Murchison at the head of the White River, Arthur's Pass National Park (in the South Island), then came out via the Greenlaw basins and Greenlaw creek. The big valley in the background is the Waimakariri River.
Yesterday I took the short trip to Titahi Bay on the coast a little way North of Wellington. The track dropped steeply down the dusty, scrubby hillside to the rocky coast where small shingle beaches were littered with silvery, bleached driftwood, washed up plastic bottles turned opaque by the sun, lost floats, a solitary, faded sneaker, broken glass and the rust-rotted engine blocks of dumped cars. Large, aggressive salt-water mosquitoes (Opifex fuscus) swarmed around me when I sat down; unlike most other mosquitoes they have a bite that's easily felt. I clambered over the rocks, resisting the urge to try a few of the climbs, and peered down at the swell surging in and swirling the weed. Brilliant sunlight glittered on the sea; one or two small boats motored past; black-backed gulls flew overhead, yelping.
Hard not to believe this could be a taniwha, but I don't imagine one of those would show itself so easily. On the other hand, I don't recall noticing it while I was photographing.
