Pennants in Civic Square

pennants in Civic Square (17 February 2015)

pennants in Civic Square (17 February 2015)

On 16 February the Wellington City Council announced that “The [Civic Square] Portico has been successfully removed!” (see WCC Facebook page)

This shot – captured 6:20pm the following day – features strings of coloured pennants, part of the publicity for the ICC Cricket World Cup match between BLACKCAPS and England Cricket.

“There will be some finishing work being done to the Portico over the next couple of weeks and scaffolding will remain up for that, but the pathway between the two buildings is clear,” WCC says.

Portico project at an end

Now there's an end to it (13 February 2015)

Now there’s an end to it (13 February 2015)

Captured last Friday (13 February), when cloudy conditions prevailed, this image is my last shot before the portico was finally dismantled. (See my earlier story for details.)

I’d show you a picture of the gap, but it’s still too messy over there right now.

“The $800,000 project to remove the earthquake-prone overbridge between the library and council office started in November, and was intended to be finished by Christmas,” according to Ian Douglas, owner of The Village Goldsmith in nearby Mercer Street. Mr Douglas’ comments were reported yesterday by The Dominion Post, under the headline, “Overrun portico project ‘damaging retail trade’“.

“It’s been a complete debacle,” [Ian] Douglas said. “Now it is dragging through what is normally our three busiest trading months.”

The news story reports Council spokesman Clayton Anderson as saying there would still be a week or two of “finishing work” but the heavy machinery would be gone and people could again walk through the area to Civic Square.

 

Drying nīkau

drying nīkau (04 November 2014)

drying nīkau (04 November 2014)

Today on |cross-ties| – the blog of “the other” – there’s an image of a fallen nīkau frond “from one of the palms in a paved area on the corner of Victoria and Manners Streets.” Having published the post, it occurred to me that there were, in my folder of unpublished images, one or two that might have been suitable for inclusion in that post.

Looking again, the older picture (taken at the same spot) seemed to prefer its own space.

“The nīkau (Rhopalostylis sapida) is a palm tree endemic to New Zealand, and the only palm native to New Zealand” (Wikipedia).

 

Summer morning

laundry (02 January 2015)

laundry (02 January 2015)

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This summer morning …
a few honey-bees are drawn
to my lavender.

Sipping camomile
tea, I contemplate the lines
of drying laundry.


“After enlightenment, the laundry. It’s a Zen proverb,” writes Jen Zbozny in her blog piece titled After enlightenment, the laundry (24 January 2014).

On a summer morning

blackbird (female)

blackbird (female)

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Curious blackbird
trapped behind glass, screams, struggles
against gentle hands.

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The courtyard door is often open on fine summer mornings, and the birds I feed are sometimes tempted to hop up onto the doorstep and peer inside. Today, whilst making my bed, I heard unusual noises. In the dining-room, a female blackbird was hurling herself at the window.

(04 January 2013)

A taste of summer

salami, Nelson market (04 Feb 2012)

salami, Nelson market (04 Feb 2012)

Nine days into winter; the sun is shining – but (in the words of John Masefield) the wind’s like a whetted knife.

Sorting through my February photos has made me hungry for some of this lovely salami, which I saw in the Nelson street market, back in the height of summer.

Summer firewood

summer firewood (01 Feb 2012)

summer firewood (01 Feb 2012)

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Autumn evening;
in the misty air, incense?
No, burning firewood.

Posted on |cross-ties| (29 Mar 2012) under the heading, Season of mists … 

The heap of firewood that inspired this image stood near an outdoor fireplace – awaiting the next summer party in the garden of the wildly imaginative John. But, since John is living (and working) on a small ship in Nelson’s harbour, these logs are unlikely to see flame before next summer.

Blue lacecap hydrangea

hydrangea amid ferns (06 Feb 2012)

hydrangea amid ferns (06 Feb 2012)

Moving to a new home has been both exhausting and exciting. As I unpack, I’m rediscovering things I haven’t seen for a while – years, in the case of some of my books.

Now that I’ve found a convenient and well-equipped internet café, I’m starting to get back into the swing of things … so will be back to regular blogging very soon.

This image is among those I captured whilst on my Nelson holiday in early February. My friends and I were walking through the regenerating bush of the Waikoropupu Springs Scenic Reserve.

“Serene and beautiful, the springs and surrounding area were turned upside down by European and Chinese prospectors in the late 1850s, when gold was discovered in the nearby Anatoki River. By the early 1860s the native lowland bush and trees had been burned and cleared for alluvial prospecting. Water races were constructed to carry water from the spring’s creeks for ground sluicing. Boulders were moved and washed for traces of gold and then stacked into walls. Hopes were high but returns were not, and within a few years most prospectors were gone.”

Hydrangeas are not native to New Zealand – I think they originated in Japan – so I’m entertaining the idea that this lovely little specimen of the blue lacecap variety is descended from one left behind by a disillusioned prospector.

Red pears

red d'Anjou pears (04 Feb 2012)

red d'Anjou pears (04 Feb 2012)

Out and about in Nelson on Market Day (04 February 2012), I photographed a bowl of beautiful d’Anjou pears.

One quick, point-and-shoot shot, the original image was far from perfect, and I had all but discarded it. Taking a second look today, though, I opened Photoshop, did some cropping and a little judicious healing … et voilà!

Reading up on this photogenic fruit, I learned that red d’Anjou pears originated in the early 1950’s as a bud sport growing on a green d’Anjou tree near Medford, Oregon. A bud sport is a natural mutation of the tree that often doesn’t yield marketable fruit, however the Red d’Anjou sport proved to be high-quality.