Autumn has begun to feel its way into the valley. In the late afternoon at the top of the No. 1 Line track, sunlight grazed the ridges, lighting up the old pahautea (
Libocedrus bidwillii) — some dead, some still with a tenacious grip on life. White puffy clouds in a blue sky, a small cricket singing in the grass nearby, a tui calling in the gully below the lookout. I drank Lapsang Souchong tea, wrote a few notes and let the sun dry the remains of my old icebreaker top.
[23 March 2013, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 264 mm, ISO 200, 1/640 at f6.3]
All content © 2013 Pete McGregor
I have a feeling I've seen these same trees in another photograph, though in completely different light. I love elfinwood. Such a still struggle between dying and living.
ReplyDeleteMaybe this one, Miguel?
ReplyDeleteI've loved these trees ever since I first met them. Apparently, some in this area are over a thousand years old, but if they're not, they certainly look it.
Such a majestic scene. Putting humans into their insignificant place in the scheme of things - these trees will have out-lived generations of people.
ReplyDeleteEC, yes — when I'm next to these or some of our other huge old trees, I often imagine what Aotearoa was like when they were just saplings. Trees really do occupy a completely different time scale. That thought makes the knowledge of what can be done in a few minutes with chainsaw even more appalling.
ReplyDeleteVery beautiful. I have a great urge to come over with my daily sketch book.
ReplyDeleteAnd here we are balanced between the seasons, you headed for fall, me for spring, neither of us there.
ReplyDeleteRR, they look like the kind of trees that beg to be drawn. Full of character.
ReplyDeleteZhoen, I'm happy for fall to take its time arriving (ideally, replacing much of winter).
"I've loved these trees ever since I first met them."
ReplyDeleteI love this. We do meet trees and come to know them.
Brenda, yes — old friends.
ReplyDelete