The nor'wester — usually mild in temperature, strong in force — blew hard around the house last week, rattling the corrugated iron sheds, thrashing the trees. This silver birch had seen it all before and just took the whipping with equanimity. Eventually the wind eased and the rain came — a heavy, determined rain. The river rose and raged, burying its bed under a dun-coloured torrent. Then the southerly blew in, bringing bitter cold, a little snow to the southern Ruahine. The stag started roaring.
All content © 2015 Pete McGregor
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4 comments:
Kia ora Pete,
A sturdy looking fellow indeed. Reminds me of a big dog shaking off water with a non chalant few shrugs. Beautiful day today. I am informed the skies over the Ruahine will be filled with choppers Friday morning. Over 30 peeps from the place I know. Glad to be a home body this weekend.
Kia ora Robb. The place is crawling with hunters at the moment. I was up No. 1 Line for a few hours this afternoon and there were four other cars at the park; I met three parties, one of whom had met the fourth, and they were all hunting. I wore my hi-viz vest.
Sounds like our front last week, with high winds. One canyon got a 93mph gust.
Still nearly as purple as the last photo.
Zhoen, we get some vicious winds here from time to time, but it's been a long time since we've had anything like a gust that strong. On the Ruahine tops, though, ... not much weather you'd call gentle up there, although I have been lucky to enjoy it on rare occasions.
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