Miromiro (tomtit), No. 1 Line track

Miromiro (not to be confused with riroriro) are currently easy to see on the No. 1 Line track. Photographing them's another matter, but this bedraggled little female posed nicely for me yesterday — but only for a few seconds. I managed several photographs as she flitted about and paused to pose, but she quickly lost interest. The whole encounter was over in less than a minute.

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Riroriro (grey warbler), No. 1 Line track

I find riroriro one of the most difficult birds to photograph. They seldom pause for more than a second, and they're usually flitting around among a tangle of twigs and branches and foliage. Often they're high enough in the canopy so I have to deal with bright patches of sky in the background, while the bird's in shadow. This time I got lucky.

All content © 2017 Pete McGregor

Dawn on the back hill

The face of the back hill was still dark but I could see enough to know the deer were elsewhere. The one silhouetted on the skyline suggested the others weren't far away, though: maybe on the far side. The magpie on the fence sat there, maybe watching the hind grazing, or maybe, like me, it was just enjoying the dawn.

[1/100 sec at f4, ISO 640]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Kereru on the No. 1 Line track

Twenty-eight photographs of kereru on the No. 1 Line track this afternoon, and this was the only one I was happy with. It was also number twenty-eight. Sometimes persistence has its rewards.

[1/25 sec at f4, ISO 400]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Titipounamu (rifleman) on the Tunupo Track

The riflemen along the Tunupo track on Saturday wouldn't stay still, but that wasn't the worst of the difficulties trying to photograph them. One of their most frustrating habits was staying high, so on the few occasions I did manage to focus on one, the background included patches of bright sky. In this photograph, though, one of those patches happened to fall almost directly behind the tiny bird (this is a female), and although I'd have preferred a clean, out-of-focus green background, the light patch at least helps draw attention to the bird.

[1/125 @f4, ISO 320]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Oroua headwaters, mid winter

I walked partway up the Tunupo track today, but despite the effort I remained cold. Still, the views were worth some mild discomfort.

[1/800 at f6.3, ISO 200]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Morning weather, southern Ruahine Range

Plenty of weather around the southern Ruahine Range this morning. By late afternoon all this cloud had cleared and the tops sat in cold sunlight under a gibbous daylight moon.

[1/320 at f8, ISO 100]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Ruapehu from the northern Ruahine

On the walk back out from Rockslide Biv to Masters Shelter last Monday, we were treated to brilliantly clear views of Ruapehu (shown here) and Ngauruhoe. Even Taranaki appeared, small but distinct, in the far distance. The ground remained largely frozen but the cold made for ideal tramping weather.

[1/640 sec at f8, ISO 250]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Cold in the Ruahine

On Sunday I drove north and walked, almost non-stop, for five-and-a-half hours over the tops to a bitterly cold bivvy in the northern Ruahine. I arrived just before dark, surprising Jono and Laura, who'd assumed I hadn't managed to get away. They'd walked in on Friday from a different direction, and had endured an icy walk up the river to the biv. At least I'd had no rivers to wade. We survived the night, although anything damp — socks, boots, etc. — froze overnight.

This photograph shows a section of the track along the tops during my walk in.

[1/60 sec at f6.3, ISO 250]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Happy hare at the hare-pin bend

The hare still lives near the hairpin bend on the No. 1 Line road. At  least, I'm guessing it's the same hare because it's hard to accept that a different one would have taken over exactly the same spot. I have been known to be wrong on a few occasions, though ;-)

The hillside had been lightly grazed, so the hare had less cover to hide in. Even so, if the evening light hadn't accentuated the hare's colour, I might not have seen it as I drove past. Clearly, it was enjoying the warmth, as several photographs show it with its eyes half closed. It seemed unperturbed, even when I got out of the car and crossed the road for a slightly closer photograph.

[1/160 sec at f8; ISO 100]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Deer on the back hill

The deer I'd been watching on the hill behind my place kept visiting. A few more joined the mob, and one morning I looked out to see seven feeding there, with the southern Ruahine brooding behind. I managed a few photographs before the spaniel's incessant barking and whining made them apprehensive and they ran down into the gully and out of sight.

A few days ago they'd stopped appearing, and yesterday I saw a lone hind on the skyline in the early morning. Soon after, a young stag appeared and chased the hind back over the hill. No doubt he was keeping the others over there too, closer to the safety of the forest. With luck, they'll return when the roar's over.

[1/100 sec. at f4; ISO 200]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

No. 1 Line jungle

As I left the No. 1 Line car park, I stopped and looked back towards Matanginui Stream. Misty rain drizzled the bush, making it look old and mysterious and slightly dangerous, as if it might hide things that could kill you if this had been jungle somewhere in Asia or Africa or South America. It looked like the kind of jungle where explorers spend fourteen hours travelling a couple of hundred metres then die of some terrible fungal disease that eats them from the skin down to the bone, or of an amoeba that kills them from the inside out, and their skeletons are discovered, if at all, decades later with the remains of their boots still clinging to the bones of their feet.

I wondered how many of those explorers thought, as they lay dying, that their travels had nevertheless been worthwhile; that, given the chance again, they'd still have chosen their explorations even knowing how they'd die. Maybe most of them feared death in a teeming jungle less than an anonymous death in a suburban room in an unremarkable city.

[f7.1 at 1/125 sec.; ISO 200]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Whio pair in the Pohangina headwaters

I returned this afternoon from two nights at Leon Kinvig hut in the headwaters of the Pohangina River. I'd hoped to see and photograph whio, and I wasn't disappointed. On the first evening, although tired after climbing over the Ngamoko Range to reach the hut, I wandered downstream and came across a lone male whio. I managed some photographs in the fast-fading light, but hoped for better. The next day I saw no whio until the evening, when this pair greeted me just a short distance downstream from the hut.

[f4 at 1/80 sec.; ISO 200]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Pheasant poult, No. 1 Line, Pohangina Valley

The second of the two pheasant poults at the top of the No. 1 Line road got left behind when its mother and sibling flew across the road into the long grass. It didn't take long for this one to follow, though.

[f4 at 1/160 sec.; ISO 200]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Young pheasant, No. 1 Line

On the way back from a walk up the No. Line track this afternoon, I drove around a bend and saw a female pheasant sprinting along the road. I slowed the car, and when she ducked through the fence into the paddock, I stopped the car. Fortunately, I had the camera on the seat next to me and the window down. I didn't manage a photograph of her, but did get a few of the two poults with her. Most of the photographs were hazy because of intervening out-of-focus grasses and weeds, but this one turned out OK after a bit of fiddling with the contrast and clarity.

I never fail to get a thrill from seeing wild pheasants.

[f4 at 1/100 sec.; ISO 200]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Whio, Pohangina headwaters

When I visited the Pohangina headwaters a few weeks ago, I photographed a male whio a short distance down the river in the evening. The following morning I explored down the river again and found this male only a few hundred metres downriver from the hut. He quickly relaxed and began preening, but still kept an eye on me. I hope to return soon, before the days get too short and the river too cold, and I hope I get to meet him again.

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Rove beetle

This rove beetle looked black until I saw it more closely and the beautiful, shiny colours became apparent. It was an aggressive little animal, though: when I gently coaxed it into a more accessible position to be photographed, it seemed keen on taking on my finger. Given how sharp those mandibles appear, I'm glad it wasn't larger.

[I've published a new post on Pohanginapete. If you're interested, check it out.]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Whio habitat — Pohangina river headwaters

Once, whio probably lived throughout much of Aotearoa, inhabiting lowland rivers as well as the mountain headwaters to which they're now restricted. The sad fact is that now, with few exceptions, the lowland forests have long gone and as soon as the rivers leave the mountains and begin to make their way through intensively farmed lowlands, they begin to deteriorate. It's rare to find water as clear and clean as this outside the headwaters.

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Whio, Pohangina headwaters

Yesterday I walked over the Ngamoko Range to Leon Kinvig hut in the headwaters of the Pohangina river. In the evening I explored a short distance down the river until, on the verge of turning back, I heard a whistle. The light had almost gone, but by bracing the camera on a huge boulder I managed some photographs of this lone male whio.

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor

Ground beetle in a hurry

We've become accustomed to seeing photographs of insects as sharp and detailed, but this form of documentary photography isn't the only way of seeing. Yes, I'll admit this photograph wasn't deliberate, but the decision to keep it was very much a deliberate choice. It reminds me that the insects I photograph are very much alive, usually active (I'll chill them in a fridge only under exceptional circumstances, when it's important for something other than my own satisfaction), and often uncooperative — like this big ground beetle (a species of Mecodema).

[If you haven't visited my other blog recently, you might like to check out the two new posts there :-)]

All content © 2016 Pete McGregor