The Early Hours of Suburbia

Daily Photo – The early hours in suburbia

It was a quarter past five in the morning and it was cold. Somewhere in the warmth of my car a thermometer on the dashboard was reading 3°C (37.4°F) while standing outside, near The Terminus building I could not only see my breath, but feel the chilly morning air slapping me hard across the face. The few cars out this early left trails of mist, steam and fog. I was tired, hardly awake and questioning my sanity, choosing to stand near a closed group of shops waiting for cars to drive past.

The previous evening after a few beers, it’d been suggested to me that the corner of the former Terminus Building and Presbyterian Church would be a good photo location as cars pass by in predawn darkness. At eleven o’clock at night it had seemed a capital idea. But now, standing in the early morning chill, waiting for cars to drive past, I realised I could still be in a nice warm bed.

Southern Lights

Daily Photo – Southern Lights

A few hours later I arrived in Dunedin. The sky had long since darkened, and the city lights shimmered in the night air. I pulled off near the Southern Motorway to photograph the ribbons of light that danced along the road with white and red streaks, the trails of headlights and taillights captured in a long exposure. The rush of cars passed unseen, but their presence painted the scene in motion and colour. The streetlamps hummed overhead, casting soft amber pools of light that barely cut through the encroaching night.

The chilly air clung to cheeks and hinted at a lazy morning frost soon to settle on the nearby rooftops and roads. It was the kind of night where your breath lingered in front of your face before disappearing into the dark. I stayed a little longer, letting the camera finish its work, and watched the city lights sparkle in the distance – Dunedin glowing quietly at the end of the road.

Hoopers Inlet Road – No Exit

Daily Photo – Hoopers Inlet Road – No Exit

I found this sign while out on the Otago Peninsula. There’s something about it that seems to say so much about rural life on the Otago Peninsula. It points to roads that feel like they’ve been forgotten about. Where there’s wind-bent grass, broken fence posts and long silences. Occasionally a local passes in a ute with a friendly wave, birds hover over ahead, and the weather changes quickly.

Dunedin Sunset

Daily Photo – Dunedin Sunset

Much to everyone’s surprise, I didn’t go out chasing the spectacular Aurora Australis show the other night. I simply enjoyed it from my front garden. I was tempted, however I’d already been out and about shooting over most of the weekend and by the time it was hitting, I was nicely settled in for the evening. Lazy I know. I did however capture the tail end of the sunset from Layers Head on the way home. Not quite as stunning as an Aurora, yet full of colour nonetheless.

Wandering Dunedin: A Quiet Afternoon

Daily Photo – Dunedin Law Courts & Anzac Square Gardens

There’s something really rather peaceful about wandering a city with no real plan, especially on a quiet, chilly Dunedin afternoon. I found myself strolling near the Railway Station, with its imposing grandeur built from basalt and Oamaru stone, when I drifted toward the Law Courts. No destination in mind, just following the quiet.

As a building, I’ve always liked the Law Courts with its dark stone, turrets, and the gothic feel—it’s the kind of architecture that makes you pause. I wandered up to the entrance and read a bit of history from the board out front. Turns out, Dunedin’s first permanent Courthouse and Prison were built here back in 1859, right on a narrow strip of reclaimed land at the foot of Bell Hill. Back then, the harbour came right up to the base of the old jail.

These buildings were part of the first wave of public infrastructure as Dunedin grew from a struggling settlement into a proper town. The current Law Courts and the neighbouring Police Station were designed by Government Architect John Campbell and built between 1895 and 1902.

Funny how a slow walk can take you through history, without even trying. Just you and a cold afternoon breeze.

Sunrise On Otago Peninsula

Daily Photo – Sunrise on Otago Peninsula

Then, a few mornings later I found myself chasing a sunrise along the hills on Otago Peninsula not far from Harbour Cone. It was early, painfully early, but as the sky caught fire with orange and crimson, any hint of tiredness vanished. A lone cabbage tree stood silhouetted against the light, like some timeless sentry watching over the land. The harbour below shimmered with colour as the first light of day spread across the hills. That’s the beauty of this place, there’s always something to discover and no two views are ever the same, and each step feels like an adventure.

This is NOM*d

Daily Photo – This is NOM*d

While wandering the Dunedin Art Gallery, I stumbled upon an exhibition titled ‘this is NOM*d’, a local fashion label that’s apparently been shaping New Zealand style since 1986. Now I know almost nothing about fashion, both New Zealand’s or anyone else’s—and have even less fashion sense. But somehow, it was fascinating. Of course, I didn’t understand a single thing I was looking at, but I nodded anyway in a profoundly wise manner, as if I always appreciated layered dresses, bright coats and ribbed sleeves that look like they’ve been through a lawn mower.

Derelict Building Near Larnach’s Castle

Daily Photo – Derelict building on Camp Road.

It was while I was out exploring the tracks around the Hereweka property near Larnach’s Castle that I came across these ruins. I’d spent a good portion of the day walking up and down hills, climbing over and under things, taking wrong turns, stepping over and in sheep poo and generally rather enjoying myself. Before heading home, I came across this derelict building on the Larnach estate. It looked to be an old cottage of some description going by the layout, room sizes and fireplaces, maybe to do with the farm that was operating at the time when Larnach occupied the property. But then again, this is just an assumption. Either way, it was fun to explore and photograph.

Tunnel Beach Remians Closed

Daily Photo – Tunnel Beach Remians Closed

I was going to visit Dunedin’s famous Tunnel Beach when I realised the track is currently closed and has been for the last seven months. Severe rain in October 2024 caused numerous slips and significant damage along the track, forcing its closure until major repairs (including a geotechnical investigation) are carried out.  Apparently the Department Of Conservation are now prioritising the restoration in the coming months, making access to the hidden beach possible once again.

Dunedin’s Traditional Chinese Garden

Daily Photo – Dunedin’s Chinese Garden

The idea to develop a traditional Chinese garden right in the city had been ruminating around the council officials for some time. Then, in the early 200o’s the idea swung back into life. It wasn’t just about creating a pretty space, it was a way to recognise the Chinese community that had been part of Otago since the gold rush in the 1860s and made a big impact on the region. 

The garden was designed in the style of a classic Chinese garden, and to keep it authentic, most of the materials were shipped straight from China, everything from tiles to timber. Then in 2007, around 40 skilled workers came over from Shanghai and built the whole thing by hand, using traditional Ming Dynasty techniques. A tribute to history, heritage, and the bond between cultures.

Otago Peninsula from Harbour Cone

Otago Peninsula from Harbour Cone

It was steep, very steep and the weather was changing quickly. Turns out that pamphlet I had read before leaving home was right. Who knew the people who wrote those things actually knew what they were talking about? I hadn’t noticed it at first, but now I was actually starting to feel rather cold. The wind? Oh yeah, definitely picking up. And the rain? Spitting again, this time a wee bit harder.

At the summit, I stood for a moment, let the wind blow through my hair, and fixed my gaze beyond the horizon. I stayed a while to take a few photos, enjoy the view, and have a drop of water. It really was quite spectacular. Standing there, at the highest point on the peninsula, I suddenly knew what it must have felt like for Sir Edmund Hillary when he reached the top of Mount Everest. It was nice to have something in common with the great man.

Papanui Inlet

Papanui Inlet

Recently, I’ve been spending a fair bit of time on the Otago Peninsula on a number of photographic outings. These journey’s aren’t particularly planned ahead of time, instead I have a list of locations in my head that I pick from, depending on the time of day and weather. The peninsula can be such a moody place when the weather changes and low clouds roll in. That’s what happened here while at Cape Saunders – low misty rain and heavy cloud cover drifted in from out at sea within a matter of minutes.

Dunedin’s Quiet Moments: Dusk at the Beach

Dusk at Blackhead Beach

Now, I know I might be completely biased here, but New Zealand has some wonderful beaches—and Dunedin’s are some of the best. They’re long, unspoilt, full of wildlife, as moody as they are imperfect—and I won’t hear a word against them!

On this occasion, I spent the evening watching the waves at Blackhead Beach roll in a steady rhythm, catching the last colours of dusk as they swept over the rocks as if in time with a Mozart symphony. Offshore, Green Island sat quietly beneath a lavender sky, as if it too were patiently waiting for night to return. I lingered for a few moments, watching the colours of the sky fade as evening took hold.

Dunedin’s Quiet Moments: A Waterfront Evening

Dunedin waterfront at dusk

I ambled through the streets until I came to a section of wharf called the Steamer Basin. Located right beside the railway lines on the eastern edge of the main business district, it was here that cargo was once loaded, unloaded and passed through the Customs Department Wharf Office. Thus, showing the importance of the area as a transit point between markets in the first decade of the twentieth century. 

For some time, the local city council has been developing this area by very strategically doing nothing at all. A strategy that successive councils have had in place for sometime now, and appears to be going according to plan. About every five to eight years a new, grand design is unveiled to the public which is always received with much oohing and ahhing, before eventually getting forgotten about and disappearing into the annals of time. 

The most recent push to redevelop the waterfront happened in 2017 when a group of notable locals got together to produce blueprints and 3D modelling that would transform the Steamer Basin into a stunning array of buildings and spaces over a span of thirty years. The designs included public spaces, Ecotourism office space, cafes, a Marine Research Centre and Aquarium, walkways, cycleways, docks, exhibition and office spaces, apartments, a luxury Hotel and a Culture Centre. All done in a futuristic space-age design and finished with a foot bridge linking the waterfront to the city. Unfortunately, after the initial enthusiasm wore off, the plans floundered, the whole project was put in the ‘too-hard basket’ and life moved on. Leaving the Steamer Basin to look as it always does, a little past it’s best 

I thought about this as I walked around and looked across the water to where a Marine Research Centre and Aquarium could now be standing. If that plan had gone ahead, we’d be eight years into a thirty year plan. I ambled a little further in the fading afternoon. Still, the people fishing seemed happy, and at least there’s a lovely pontoon that can fit up to twelve people on it.

Dunedin’s Quiet Moments: Overbridge Sunrise

Overbridge sunrise

The forecast for the day was for long periods of fine weather with evening high cloud, light northeasterlies, and a high of a delicious 20 degrees.

Now 20 degrees — for Dunedin at any time of year — is practically tropical, but in May is simply unheard of. The city’s infrastructure simply isn’t built to handle such extreme weather. When you take into consideration that this was the third day of the current run of fine weather, Dunedin was approaching, it must be said — a heatwave. 

In fact, we were teetering on the brink of what I like to call the John Caswell Heatwave Threshold —  an entirely unscientific, arbitrary benchmark that is based on nothing but my own personal feelings about the weather! To be clear, my own personal threshold for heatwave in Dunedin is as follows: any spell of weather that is better than the previous summer. So, while my system might not be as reliable as the official one, it’s my rule, so I get to make-up the parameters.

Now, the previous summer, and I will be quite frank here, was simply awful. It was a masterclass in disappointment. Throughout most of December, January, and into February, there hadn’t been more than three days in a row where the weather was fine, warm, and pleasant. What you might traditionally associate with summer. Most of the time, there had been low cloud, wind and long periods of rain hanging around the city like it had nowhere better to be.

Yet, here I was, on a warm Dunedin morning in May, watching the sun appear over the peninsula, with another long, fine day in prospect, wondering if we’d need to declare a state of emergency if the mercury hit 21 degrees. The only question was, what was I going to do with it? A completely rhetorical question I can assure you.

Boulder Beach, Otago Peninsula

Boulder Beach, Otago Peninsula

Before I went there a few days ago, about all I really remembered about Boulder Beach, beyond the fact it had sand and rocks, was that access was via a farm road, followed by a short walk through sand dunes.

Like so many parts of the Otago Peninsula, Boulder Beach is managed by the Department of Conservation. Once upon a time, a well-maintained and signposted track led down to the beach, with further walking tracks branching off through the dunes and up over the nearby hills. All those paths are now a distant memory.

The beach survives, but in a very different way. As a protected area under the Department of Conservation, it is often visited by fur seals and sea lions, and is a favoured nesting spot for yellow-eyed penguins. In fact, the beach is so popular with these shy, nesting birds that the track is closed to the public from November to February during the breeding season.

I walked down to the beach. The farm road was longer and steeper than I remembered, and the nearby sand dunes had collapsed, resulting in an unexpected excursion through newly formed valleys, overgrown and heavy with dune. Reaching the bottom of the hill, I pushed my way through dense bushes tangled with vines. Every so often, the path would disappear—only to reappear moments later.

Eventually, after much swearing, I stumbled upon the isolated, wild, windswept beach. Golden dunes spilled to the shoreline, while large mounds of dark, smooth stones stretched along the beach and into the distance. The air was rich with salt, and the rhythm of waves rolling beneath the endless blue sky. It was just as I remembered it: quiet, peaceful, and serene.

Hare on Fence Line

Hare on Fence Line

This image is my take on rural life on the peninsula—unfiltered and a bit rough around the edges. I initially drove past this scene after first seeing it. Something about it stuck with me. It’s not an easy picture, and that’s part of why I took it. There’s no drama, no movement—just a quiet, weathered kind of finality.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to do with it. But on a still, grey morning, walking the same fenceline, I realised this was really a photo about boundaries, both literal and symbolic. Out here, fences mark more than just paddocks. Sometimes they hold stories, or reminders. This hare, caught and left, becomes part of the land in a strange way. You see things like this from time to time. No explanation, just a presence.

Rural life can be harsh. There’s beauty in it, but not always the kind you hang on a postcard. This photo sits with that reality. Quiet, a little uncomfortable, and honest.

Farm Field on Cape Saunders Road.

Farm field on Cape Saunders road.

The metaphor of lines dissolving into the horizon crops up often in my work. Here, the fence line draws the eye through, threading its way into the brooding grey sky. I’m often drawn to the way the land seems to pause, as though waiting. There’s a tension between what is visible and what remains just out of reach beyond the rise. I nearly passed this scene by on a gloomy afternoon, but something about the scene made me stop. The light was heavy, flat—but quietly alive. There’s no grand gesture here, only wire, grass, and sky—but that’s all that’s needed. Everything is pared back to the essentials, and in that bareness, something honest emerges.

The City Gathers

Cenotaph, Queens Gardens

The cenotaph was a quiet, somber place. The usual crowds were elsewhere, and those passing by didn’t linger. Not today—not with the wind whipping autumn leaves like a child’s toy and rain sweeping the city in steady waves. Nobody lingers on days like this. It’s a day to be indoors, somewhere sheltered, somewhere warm. On days like this, people don’t stop to read, to talk, or to ponder.

But on ANZAC Day, this is Dunedin’s gathering place—whatever the weather. Each year, at 6am on April 25th, the city gathers. It has for 110 years. The people come to remember, reflect, and honor the fallen. At 6am in 1915, the ANZACs landed on the shores of Gallipoli. And now, the city gathers before dawn, as darkness gives way to light.

The wreaths laid on ANZAC Day remind us and teach us. They remind us of sacrifice, identity, and unity. They teach us mateship, courage, and peace. And in the days that follow, they remain—a quiet, enduring reminder.

Dunedin’s Iconic First Church

First Church in Dunedin

First Church is one of Dunedin’s most iconic landmarks and holds a significant place in the city’s history. Its original congregation consisted of Scottish Free Church settlers who arrived in the 1840s. Several different structures once stood on the site, but the foundation stone for the current building was laid on 15 May 1868, and the church was ready for use by 1873. With its striking Gothic architecture, it’s no surprise that First Church is considered one of the most impressive nineteenth-century churches in New Zealand.

I Wandered Through The Darkened Lanes

Corner of City Rise, Ross Street and Leven Street.

I’ve come across this intersection many times, and I’ve always thought it would make an interesting subject. However, it depends on a number of factors. During the day, it really looks like just another drab and dull intersection. Yet, if I could find the right conditions—with a little ambient street light, an interesting sky, and some traffic—it could be compelling.

To be honest, I don’t think this image is quite there yet; it’s more a work in progress. I’m thinking a few more attempts on a winter morning might do the trick.

The Orokonui Ecosanctuary

The Orokonui Ecosanctuary

One morning, I found myself at Orokonui Ecosanctuary. The warmth of the sunlight spilled over tussock and flax and caught the curve of the visitor centre like it was a natural part of the landscape. The nearby ponds reflected the still morning sky as tui’s and bellbirds tuned up for their morning symphony. Somewhere out there, a takahē waddled through purposefully looking for a spot of breakfast. I hadn’t even started walking the tracks yet, and already, nature was making me grin like an idiot.

Natural Beauty & Rugged Charm

An isolated section of coast on the Otago Peninsula

I’d spent the afternoon walking some of the tracks that cross farmland on the Otago Peninsula. Tucked away on the southeastern edge of New Zealand’s South Island, it really is a treasure trove of natural beauty and rugged charm that never fails to impress. It has so many wonderful and incredible spots sometimes it’s hard to know where to start. This is the view from part of the Highcliff track looking down on one of the isolated sections of coast.

The Coffee Obsession

Governor’s Cafe

At some quiet moment, like the rest of the world, Dunedin found itself obsessed with coffee. These days, you’re never too far from a café or barista’s, ready to offer comfort in a cup. New spots continue to bloom like unexpected thoughts, while the old haunts still pour for those who return, seeking something familiar in a world that never stops shifting.

The Stillness of the Night

Moray Place, Dunedin.

At this early hour, the city whispers in hushed tones. Silent echoes from forgotten doorways spill into the night and cast unfamiliar shadows across the pavement. In these sleepy streets, lost souls, taxis and garbage trucks are the only ones left to roam the unguarded city.

There’s something about this hour, small noises echo through the stillness of the night. In the absence of sound, everything becomes louder, strange and new. The unfamiliarity draws out misplaced memories from a forgotten past. They emerge in moments like this, when you least suspect. Walking ahead of you, impossible to follow yet impossible to ignore.

Memories are like reflections of our previous self. They aren’t always visible; some only exist in our unconscious mind.

Forgotten Thoughts In The Rain

Princes Street in Dunedin

The usual food caravan’s and coffee venders weren’t there.
Not today. Not when the wind is sharp and the rain is heavy. Nobody lingers on days like these. There’s somewhere else to be, somewhere sheltered, somewhere warm. On days like this, thoughts quickly get forgotten and washed away in the rain.

Dunedin does this. It turns on a heartbeat. The weather comes in quickly — like a thought you didn’t see coming. It starts with an insignificant puff of wind through the trees, an irrelevant rain drop on the footpath, or a bank of cloud appearing over the horizon that sets the scene for something wild and interesting to come. 

The thing is, you never know how long it’ll last. But, on days like this the rain will wash away your thoughts and reshape your view of tomorrow.