Whio at Leon Kinvig hut

From early Monday to late Thursday afternoon last week, I helped survey the whio (blue duck; Hymenolaimus malacorhynchos) population in the headwaters of the Pohangina river. A team of three with a specially trained German short-haired pointer checked the lower river (from Cattle Creek to Leon Kinvig hut, for those of you who know the place), while Nathan from DOC (Department of Conservation) and I checked the upper river including most of the major tributaries.

Late in the evening of the first day, this male turned up in the river by the hut. Not much light for photographing, but this gives a good impression of these lovely birds. The pale pink bill's extremely bright — so much so that in many photographs it's overexposed and appears white — and can be easily seen even when the dusk's so far advanced that the rest of the bird has disappeared into the dark surroundings. I've often thought perhaps this enables pairs to keep track of each other during their crepuscular feeding, but I can't think how this might be tested, even in theory and certainly not in practice. Any suggestions?

More from the survey shortly...

[17 December 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 800, 1/50 at f5.6]



All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Tachinid, No. 1 Line

Recently I've been making frequent trips up the No. 1 Line track, and have been rewarded with sightings of deer and NZ falcons (karearea; Falco novaeseelandiae). But plenty of smaller wildlife offers fascinating rewards too, and this is one — a big bristle fly, one of the group of parasitic flies in the family Tachinidae. For some weeks now, each time I've waited for the water to boil so I can make tea, this fly (or one of its mates — I can't distinguish the individuals) has come and hung out on the seat next to me. It's big — about the size of a big blowfly — and after numerous meetings, feels like a friend.

[If you haven't already noticed, I published a new post on Pohanginapete a week or so ago.]


[15 December 2012, Canon 20D, 100 mm f2.8 macro, ISO 200, 1/640s at f4]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Leopard, Naini Tal

Leopards still roam wild throughout many parts of India, including the Himalayan foothills of Garhwal and Kumaon which together make up Uttarakhand. While I travelled in that region in late 2006 I wondered whether I might glimpse a leopard; later, on returning to the lowlands of Rajasthan and reading a newspaper  that reported the killing of a young girl by a leopard in Uttarakhand (known then as Uttaranchal), I thought maybe glimpsing a leopard isn't as exhilarating an experience for people who live in close proximity to wild leopards.

This one, however, was captive at Naini Tal zoo, where it shared a small enclosure with too many others.


[7 December 2006, Canon 20D, 300 mm f4 L IS, ISO 200, 1/160s at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Patagonian farmacia

Towards evening we stopped somewhere along the roughly two thousand kilometre route between Bariloche and El Calafate. Just before the bus pulled over, a gaucho galloped a band of wild-looking horses along the main street of the little town. We turned onto this side street and parked just past the farmacia. The place felt like the legends of Patagonia.


[8 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 200, 1/1000 at f11]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Cerro Torre and FitzRoy

One of my main motivations for coming to South America was to see Cerro Torre. Given the notorious reputation of Patagonian weather, I'd expected to have to wait weeks for a glimpse of this legendary mountain.

This was a view from the bus (through a grimy window) from El Calafate to El Chaltén. Cerro Torre's the highest of the row of peaks on the left — the one that looks like a shard of glass. The highest peak, on the right and partly obscured by cloud, is FitzRoy.



[9 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 150 mm, ISO 200, 1/3200 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

American flamingo feeding, Isla Isabela

I first saw flamingos in India, just outside Jamnagar, in early 2007, and in 2011 I saw two species of flamingo in great numbers on the wind-swept, high altitude lakes of the Bolivian altiplano. But it was on Isla Isabela in the Galápagos earlier in the 2011 South American journey that I saw the most brilliantly coloured flamingos. Apparently, diet affects the vividness of the colour, so whatever these American flamingos were feeding on must have had a powerful influence. This was one of the birds that frequented the Poza Salinas, the small saline lake near my hostel on the edge of Puerto Villamil.


[12 September 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 228 mm, ISO 400, 1/1600 at f7.1]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Vallunaraju, Cordillera Blanca

If you visit Huaraz, make sure you get a room with a view of the Cordillera Blanca, then make sure you're there at dusk. The rewards are spectacular.


[6 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 100 mm, ISO 400, 1/30 at f5.6]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Lava lizard, Isla Isabela

The best known reptiles of the Galápagos archipelago are the iguanas (particularly the marine iguanas) and the giant tortoises. But others live here too: the secretive Galápagos snake (which I was fortunate enough to see), sea turtles (which I was fortunate enough to snorkel with), and nine species of lizards in the genus Microlophus, which every visitor will be bound to see.  M. albemarlensis inhabits Isla Isabela, where I spent ten days, and Fernandina, inaccessible to those, like me, not on expensive cruises. Female lava lizards can be easily identified by the orange throat and face; males lack this but have a black throat patch.

I never did manage to discover whether the orange specks were seeds of some plant or, more probably, mites.


[10 September 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 45 mm, ISO 400, 1/250 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Rio Torre & Nothofagus; PN Los Glaciares

The Rio Torre debouches from the terminal lake of the Torre glacier, which, not surprisingly, flows beneath Cerro Torre. I set up camp, then wandered up the river hoping I might see a torrent duck. No luck, but the next evening back in El Chalten, I saw a pair with chicks just 15 minutes or so upstream from the bridge.

The gnarly little shrub is one of the species of southern beech (Nothofagus), but I'm not sure which. New Zealand also has several Nothofagus species, and the forest here was similar enough to make me think of the place to which I'd return in just over a month, but different enough to remind I was in a different country.


[11 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 234 mm, ISO 100, 1/10 at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Sycamore dawn

The sycamore at the edge of the terrace seldom looks the same—each day the light's different, the tree has more or fewer leaves, the colours have changed, mist obscures the valley beyond (as it did on this particular morning a month ago) or not, and so on. Sometimes I think this view has become part of me; sometimes I think I've become part of this view. If it's a dream, it's not a bad one.


[4 October 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 200, 1/20 at f11]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Vicuña at dusk on the Salar de Uyuni

That's not water, it's salt. At dusk the blinding glare of the white salt plain softened. The sun left the salar and briefly lit distant mountains and clouds. Three vicuña settled down on the plain a long way out from the shore. I guess they were as safe there as anywhere — nothing could sneak up on them there.


[23 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 100, 1/30 at f8]


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Aerial at dusk, Huaraz

Huaraz, in Peru's Cordillera Blanca, was a highlight of my time in South America. The wonderful people I spent time with there — other travellers as well as locals — played a big part in that impression, but so did the Cordillera. Often the light in the evenings was nothing short of astonishing. This is the view from my rooftop.


[8 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 100 mm, ISO 200, 1/125 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Wind cloud, Puerto Natales

We boarded the ferry in the evening to sleep aboard in readiness for a pre-dawn departure. Many of us stayed on deck watching the last light fade and the wind clouds form over mountains, fjords, water. I took one last look at Puerto Natales, knowing in all likelihood I might never see it again.


[6 December 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 200, 1/100 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Blue boat, low tide, Puerto Natales

To most travellers, Puerto Natales is little more than a stopover en route to the Torres del Paine or Tierra del Fuego and Ushuaia. But I loved it for its own sake — so much so, I even half-wondered how I might settle down there, at least for a few months. Maybe work on my shamefully poor Spanish, write, wander, photograph the endlessly fascinating shoreline.


[4 December 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 100, 1/160 at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

River at Campamento Italiano, PN Torres del Paine [II]

Another view of the river, this time from above.


[21 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 100, 1/10 at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

River at Campamento Italiano, PN Torres del Paine

Same place as this photograph, one day later, a different feel. Everywhere I travelled, I felt compelled to photograph flowing water. Here in the mountains of Chile, so similar to Aotearoa in so many ways, the compulsion felt even stronger.

[21 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 100, 1/8 at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Dawn, Lake Malawi

At dawn on the shores of Lake Malawi in 2007, I looked out towards Mozambique, somewhere out of sight on the far side of the lake. A few fishermen tried their luck far out on the water in their tiny dugout canoes; a pair of hammerkops preened at the water's edge; a big, well fed dog padded along the sand. I'd have been happy to stay there indefinitely.


[20 May 2007, Canon 20D, 24–105 mm f4 L at 73 mm, ISO 400, 1/20s at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Elephant, South Luangwa

South Luangwa National Park in Zambia seems like a long time ago, but proximity to wild elephants is something that remains vivid — intensely so.


[11 May 2007, Canon 20D, 300 mm f4 L IS, ISO 200, 1/200 at f6.3]


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Tales from the Valley

Everything here comes from the Pohangina Valley.


[Sometime within the next day, Leonie will post another short piece by me on Weekends Collected. If it isn't up when you visit, check later. Remember to submit something yourself, too.]


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

The path we all take

A composite. The main photograph's from No. 2 Line in April 2011.

Over to you.


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Dawn in the fjords of Chile [III]

The first sunlight grazed the peaks at about 5:30 a.m. as we sailed steadily north through the fjords of Chile. Only a few other keen people had risen, but the early start rewarded us with scenes like this.


[6 December 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 45 mm, ISO 100, 1/125 at f11]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

On the edge

All life lives on the edge.


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

On the train from Oruro to Uyuni

I have no idea how people survive in places where water seems like a fiction, something old people tell stories about. "When I was a chica, it rained here," she says, but her granddaughter doesn't understand.

The thunderclouds always seemed to rise somewhere else, behind mountains, over someone else's shrivelled crops.

[Read more on Pohanginapete]


[22 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 34 mm, ISO 200, 1/1250 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Patē on the No. 1 Line track

For the first time in a month I walked up the No. 1 Line track. Not to the top, mind you: just to the lookout at the top of the steep section, roughly halfway up. After a month of no significant exercise – thanks to the 'flu, the weather, and work – I've decided to regain my fitness gradually rather than wrecking myself trying to do too much too soon.

I enjoyed the walk, and on the way down stopped to prowl around with the camera, mostly looking for textures and patterns. This small Schefflera digitata insisted on being photographed. Note that although the English common name for patē is seven-finger, leaves can have 3–9 leaflets, so when you count eight on this, please don't think I've misidentified it. The finely serrated edges and the texture of the leaflets make this easy to identify [he says, crossing his fingers].

I felt as if I'd arrived home after a long absence.

[Update/Public Service Announcement: New post up on Pohanginapete. A continuation of thoughts and impressions from last year's travelling in South America.]

[14 September 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 38 mm, ISO 800, 1/25 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

No. 1 Line midwinter

Rain had begun to close in over the valley as I drove back down No. 1 Line at the beginning of August, after a walk to the top of the track. Some paddocks had been grazed so hard they seemed little more than bare ground, gnawed and trampled. I couldn't help thinking of the devastation caused by the nineteenth century european colonisers, whose main means of farming was to burn everything and sow seed into the ash.


[1 August 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 100 mm, ISO 100, 1/160 at f8. Lots of post-processing in Lightroom and Photoshop.]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Kennels, plum, sky

Back in May this year, autumn had begun to grip the land. Low sun, the leaves shrivelling, a nip in the morning air. Now, at the other end of winter, this kind of scene can be seen again, but I much prefer the promise of lengthening days, warming weather, and lower river levels that allow safer access to the Ruahine.


[12 May 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 200, 1/200 at f8]
  
All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Dog on the Salar

Not all the wildlife was wild—some of the domestic wildlife was just as appealing. This little guy lived where we stayed on our first night on the Salar de Uyuni.


[24 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 45 mm, ISO 200, 1/100 at f11]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

James's (puna) flamingo

At somewhere around 5000 metres, the ability of anything to live seems astonishing. Yet the saline lakes of Bolivia's altiplano were home to hundreds of birds, including many of these James's (puna) flamingos (Phoenicoparrus jamesi). I never tired of seeing them.


[25 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 200, 1/2000 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

The new Archaeopteryx

Walking along a rough and broken concrete footpath beside the lake at Bariloche, I glanced down. At my feet, a foot. What had happened here — what had befallen the bird? What series of coincidences had left this limb precisely here, framed in this way? I couldn't help thinking of Archaeopteryx, perhaps the most famous of all fossils.

I walked on, still wondering. In the following days, ash from the volcano swept over the town, leaving a fine, powdery film over everything, perhaps even over the foot on the footpath. In another time, the foot might have turned to a fossil; this time, this relic would vanish into oblivion. But perhaps, for who knows how long, this photograph will remain as another kind of record, a statement of questions more than answers, an incitement to wonder. A new kind of fossil.


[7 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14– 45 mm at 45 mm, ISO 200, 1/160 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Cerro Torre before sunrise

I got to the lake when the first light from the clouds had just begun to stretch through to touch the snowfields and rock walls. The headwall of Cerro Torre was obscured by cloud, but I didn't mind. This mountain was one of the things I'd most wanted to see in Patagonia.

The colours kept changing, moment by moment, until, not long after this photograph,the land looked like this.


[11 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 29 mm, ISO 100, 3.2s at f11]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

River at Campamento Italiano, Torres del Paine

At Campamento Italiano on the Torres del Paine circuit, the river splits then rejoins at the swing bridge. I spent some time there, mostly in the morning before anyone else had risen, and was rewarded with a close look at a pair of torrent ducks.

The red-flowering shrub is known locally as notro, the Chilean firebush (Embothrium coccineum), and was a common and striking element of the flora while I was in the PN Torres del Paine.

[20 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 100, 1/3 at f16]


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

View from the Mirador del Valle Frances, Torres del Paine

I'd not long arrived at Campamento Italiano when I heard someone call my name. A tired Scott stood there, enormous pack on his back, after the better part of a week walking the circuit in the opposite direction to me. The next day we left our gear and walked up to Campamento Britanico, then to the Mirador. Cloud slid around the huge cirque, hiding and revealing wild mountains; occasional flurries of snow swept over. Fine weather has its charms, but for sheer spectacle in the mountains, this is to be preferred.


[21 November 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 100, 1/200 at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Oroua River and beech leaf

A few days before the start of this year, a friend and I did an overnight trip to Iron Gate hut in the Ruahine Range. We struck it lucky — we had the hut to ourselves, the weather treated us kindly, and we watched a pair of whio in the river in the evening. Over the summer I returned to the Ruahine several times, but during this winter I've had to be content with regular walks up the No. 1 Line Track because of the constraints of work and weather. I've consoled myself with the thought that I'll be in good shape when I can finally resume the longer tramps, but now much of that good work's been undone by a vicious bout of 'flu. I'm pretty much over it now, but I'll be taking it easy for a little while yet.

[PS: I've updated last week's lighthouse photograph]

[28 December 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 35 mm, ISO 100, 1/15 at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Austral negrito at Puerto Natales

This little austral negrito (Lessonia rufa) hopped around the shore at Puerto Natales on an overcast day. He never seemed to pause long enough for me to press the shutter button, and kept his distance as well. Consequently, this heavily cropped photograph is the best I'm ever likely to manage of these lovely little birds. They belong to a group having what seems like an utterly inappropriate name: the Tyrant Flycatchers. On the other hand, I guess if you're a fly, ...


[5 December 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 200, 1/800 at f5.6]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Cook Strait lighthouse

I crossed Cook Strait from the South Island to Wellington yesterday, and drove back to the valley today. Partway across the Strait, I wandered out onto the observation deck to look for seabirds, but the ocean seemed strangely devoid of life. No albatrosses, no shearwaters, not even a gull. The sight of this lighthouse leaning against a faint row of Jacob's Ladders partly compensated, though.

Update:
Maritime NZ tells me this is the now-decommissioned Karori Rock Beacon. Engineer Jim Foye says, "Karori Rock was decommissioned in 1996 and replaced with a light call Tongue Point on the mainland, the main reason was to enable the site to be safely accessed. Karori Rock was left in place and still acts as a visual mark."

The beacon is the subject of a 1918 paper (Holmes, R. W. (1918). The Karori Rock beacon, Cook Strait, New Zealand. Minutes of the Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers, 206(1918), 331–337. doi:10.1680/imotp.1918.15868). Work on the beacon was completed in October 1915.

The lean in my photograph is an illusion: the tower itself is vertical but slopes on the landward side to increase stability.

[14 August 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 100, 1/640 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Fog at dawn, Pohangina valley

The weather didn't treat us well here in the valley during late autumn and early winter. But sometimes we'd get fog in the morning, and the old macrocarpas and broken pines would rise up out of it like creatures from myth, and later the sun would burn off the mist and the day would turn brilliant and almost warm.

[9 May 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 100 mm, ISO 200, 1/13 at f8. Grain added.]


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Perigee moon

The evening before the so-called 'Supermoon', back in May this year, I stepped out the back door and saw this. Perhaps a similar photograph the following night, when the moon was perfectly round, might have been better. On the other hand, slight imperfection has its own kind of beauty.

[5 May 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 100 mm, ISO 200, 1/25 at f16]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Mist, No. 1 Line track

At the top of the No. 1 Line track in early June this year. Fine weather's great, but this has a definite appeal.


[7 June 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 183 mm, ISO 200, 1/400 at f5.6]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

'bye (piwakawaka)

That'll do for the piwakawaka photographs. At least for the moment.


[6 July 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 400, 1/1250 at f8. Not the best technically, but you'll get the point.]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Grumpy bird (piwakawaka)

At the time he (she?) didn't seem upset about all the photographing ...


[6 July 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 400, 1/1250 at f5.6]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Piwakawaka (again)

Pretty sure this is the same one; lately I've been seeing mostly one at a time checking out the verandah, so I assume it's the same individual. The railing on which it's standing now looks rather different because we've had no rain for the last few days. I rather like seeing those little 'blessings' (Kerouac called them that, so why shouldn't I?) lined up like that. A reminder that this place is home to more lives than mine.


[6 July 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 400, 1/250 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Piwakawaka (fantail)

A little piwakawaka has been hanging around the verandah lately. I took a break from working at the kitchen table a few days ago to try to photograph the little mite. Here's one of the results. You'll probably have to put up with a few more over the next week.



[6 July 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 400, 1/250 at f8]


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Midwinter evening, Pohangina valley

Last week I walked up the No. 1 Line track late in the afternoon. By the time I reached the top the light had begun to take on a warm tinge quite at odds with the actual temperature. I didn't stay to brew tea, but headed back down after just a few minutes. By the time I reached the car, the afternoon had turned to evening. This was the view from the road, looking roughly north along the southern Ruahine Range.I just had to stop for a minute or two.


[1 July 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 200, 1/25 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Sally lightfoot crab

While the death of Lonesome George consigned his subspecies to the oblivion of extinction (and don't try to tell me cloning might bring him back — it can't), not all Galápagos species are threatened with imminent extinction. These Sally lightfoot crabs (Grapsus grapsus) certainly seem to be thriving. On a grey day threatening rain, they added a delightful touch of colour to the lava rocks along the coast of Santa Cruz.


[6 September 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 400, 1/250 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

This is what extinction looks like

Lonesome George has died. The last of his subspecies of giant Galápagos tortoise, he was thought to be about a hundred years old. I met him in September last year; by then his subspecies had long been doomed to extinction, but his death two days ago (24 June) saddens me nevertheless.


[7 September 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 400, 1/200 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Somewhere in the fjords of Chile

I've read claims that wild places no longer exist, that you can't go anywhere without encountering overt signs of human activity. I find those kinds of claims slippery at best — what's overt to their authors might be not all all obvious to many of us; just how long must I go without being reminded that other humans share this place with me; what constitutes wildness; how large is this wild (or not) place about which we're arguing, and so on —  but I do acknowledge this: wild places are declining.

Still, some remain. Anyone who's travelled through the fjords of Chile will know that.


[6 December 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 45 mm, ISO 100, 1/60 at f11]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Winter birch

Lately we've had cold, damp days — sometimes a frost followed by a heavily overcast day. I live most of the time in several layers of thermals and fleece, topped with a down jacket, hands in edging mittens.


[28 May 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 100 mm, ISO 200, 1/320 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Silkie

Another of the new chooks living out the back. Silkies have been popular for many decades — perhaps even centuries — and their popularity apparently shows no sign of diminishing. My parents preferred less outrageous-looking fowls and considered the silkie's feathered legs a fault (they look quaint when they're clean, but there's the rub), but I'm happy to enjoy the sight of these. I do prefer clean-legged breeds, though, particularly game fowls and some of the wyandottes.



[28 May 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 200, 1/60 at f5.6]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Old cans

I suppose cans like these will eventually survive only in museums. Now it's all red and yellow plastic — oil holding oil. (These are petrol cans, but it's all oil in one form or another.)


[28 May 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 183 mm, ISO 200, 1/320 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Chook

New chooks have arrived out the back. A gallimaufry of Galliformes, useless for anything but looking great.

I grew up with chooks and have met them all over the world: places like the Amazon, remote parts of Mongolia, the Himalaya, African towns, and my own back yard. Fowls, it seems to me, remain invisible until someone feels like chicken — even as egg producers they're seen as something other than the things they really are: birds.

I drove home the other day thinking about these new arrivals, and I thought, any place you can't keep chooks isn't a healthy place for humans. Think carefully about the logic of that.


[28 May 2012, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 188 mm, ISO 200, 1/80 at f4.8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor