Evening surfer at St Clair
It’s the simplicity I like about this image, two colours and surfer – that’s it! A bright orange sky lighting up the horizon, late in the evening after sunset while the ocean rolls in a deep hue of blue. There are different tones within both of these colours while a surfer patiently waits, looking off into the distance. It’s so very uncomplicated yet full of complexity, both at the same time.
The Boundary Track, Ross Creek
The outstanding Ross Creek Reserve is quite simply marvellous. I can’t express how much I enjoy walking the various tracks that make up the entire reserve. There are multiple entry points to the tracks that take you up hills, down into valleys, past one of the oldest water supply reservoirs in the country and past dams. It links up with other nearby tracks that venture high into the Dunedin hills, past water falls and all the while you’re surrounded by an abundance of birdlife. It really is a wonderful place.
Water Garden, Dunedin Botantic Garden
I found my way back to the Dunedin Botanic Gardens, mainly because that was where my car was parked. Also, to see the Water Garden. With the Botanic Gardens split into two main sections, the Water Garden is located in the Lower part of the gardens, while I had spent my time on the various paths in the Upper section. From there, I had then made my way back to the carpark by way of zig-zagging through a number of side streets before suddenly remembering I was wanting to see what reflections I could find in the various nearby ponds.
St Clair from St Kilda Beach, Dunedin.
The day was fine and clear, the wind had dropped away and with summer only a few weeks away, the daylight was going to run deep into the evening. It was what locals call a stunner of a day with the temperature sitting at a warm 16 degrees. Throughout the day, the beach had been a popular place and as late afternoon started to turn to early evening, a peaceful calm had settled along the coast.
Blackhead Beach
It was like I was standing on the edge of the world, staring out over a restless sea as dark, brooding clouds gathered overhead. The water was an intense shade of turquoise, calm at the shore but stirring further out. Small waves, gentle yet insistent, rolled toward the beach, their white crests gleaming under the dimming light. There was a weight in the air, a tension, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath, waiting.
Evening at Larnach’s Castle
If you google haunted places in Aotearoa, on almost every list you’ll find Larnach’s Castle mentioned. The tale of William Larnach really is rather tragic and in case you don’t know the story, here’s a quick recap. Arriving in Dunedin at the time of the gold rush from the Australian gold fields as a banker, William Larnach quickly grew a reputation as a businessman. He amassed a fortune through business investments, went into politics, was involved in shipping, farming and landholdings. He had six children with his first wife Eliza Guise before she died at the age of 38. He then married Eliza’s half sister Mary Alleyne who after 5 years of marriage died at the age of 38. Larnach then married Constance de Bathe Brandon, a lady who was more than 20 years younger than him. Unfortunately Larnachs businesses started failing, his properties lost money, and his favourite daughter Kate died in her early 20s. As he started to spiral towards bankruptcy, he finally discovered his third wife was having an affair with his eldest son Donald. Soon after, he committed suicide in Parliament in Wellington via a gun in 1898.
So, when it comes to ghosts there are rumours the local spirits are his first wife Eliza, or his favourite daughter Kate, or even William Larnach himself. There are all sorts of stories of people witnessing supernatural activity however the most famous of the paranormal events to happen at the castle happened in 1994. A new play about the Larnach family called Castle of Lies was being premiered in the grand ballroom. While the guests came in and were seated, a ferocious gale came up across the peninsula and ripped through the grounds of the castle. As the evening went on and the wind got more intense, smoke from the fireplaces blew back down the chimneys sending fine white white soot right through the ballroom. That was followed by heavy rain and hail while the drapes inside went flying in every direction possible. Then, at the part in the play where William Larnach was about to kill himself, a flash of lightning shot through the room. So dramatic was the event, many of the guests mistook it for a very impressive stage effect.
Lower Stuart Street in Dunedin
For those of you that live in Dunedin, this is a reminder of what Lower Stuart Street looked like before the whole thing was dug up. Just in cases you forgot. The purpose of the massive hole that has been dug in the middle of the street is to replace historical pipes dating back as far as 1887. While this work was taking place, they unsurprisingly found old constructions like makeshift wooden steps that were put in place over a century ago and the foundations of a horse stables that used to occupy part of Moray Place. I think that’s just splendid.
Dusk over the Pacific Ocean
How is it possible for an ocean to look so moody, yet peaceful both at the same time? It’s an odd occurrence to see a wonderful hue of colours linger in the distance while at the same time wondering if the large dark clouds gathering in the distance are about to open with a torrent of rain. I’d been watching the clouds engulf the sky on the horizon, noticing at the same time the wind had picked up while the temperature dropped. Somewhere across the Pacific Ocean it was bound to be raining, yet here on the point looking out across the sea, the sky seemed to be in an erratic and impulsive mood.
A revamped George Street
In an attempt to create a more people-friendly space where both business, shoppers, scooters, skateboarders (and whatever other mode of transport you wish to add) can coexist, the local city council spent over $100 million redeveloping the main street. I was pondering this as I walked along Dunedin’s George Street passing well-known places such as Knox Church. It was when I arrived at a crossing that I noticed a number of shops across the road that were empty and out of business. So, now everyone has a shiny new footpath to walk on as they pass empty shops that are boarded-up and covered in graffiti. At that moment I hoped that one-day eventually the buildings will once again be full of shops with businesses that are thriving.
The Royal Albert Hotel (aka The Albert Arms, aka The Bog)
I was in the inner city to complete a few errands and tasks that I had either been putting-off, avoiding or simply procrastinating over. They hadn’t been particularly time consuming or difficult, however I’d been telling myself ‘I’ll do that tomorrow’ and tomorrow had turned into several weeks! Now, having completed all the chores I had set, my time was free to fill in whatever way I pleased so I started with a walk along the main street. It was late afternoon and while one side of the street was still bathed in sunlight, the other was filled with ever growing shadows as the sun started to drop in the sky.
Dunedin’s eastern coastline at dusk.
It was one of those days that required an evening walk, simply because it was just too nice to not be outside. The route took me through a cemetery, a golf course, along a beach and up a road before coming across a view of Dunedin’s eastern coastline as dusk took hold. With caution, I pushed my way through the bush on the side of the road until I came to a clearing that gave an uninterrupted vantage point of Tomahawk Beach to the south. Watching the sun set, it wasn’t a bad way to end the day.
Lindsay Creek in Bethunes Gully
Last month when Dunedin was inundated with three times the usual October rainfall in just two days, unsurprisingly all the local rivers and streams had a massive flow rate. One of those was Lindsay Creek. It starts on Mount Cargill and runs down into Bethunes Gully and through North East Valley before linking up with the Water of Leith at the Dunedin Botanic Gardens. The day after the rains stopped and the streets began to clear, I went for a wander through Bethunes Gully and found Lindsay Creek in full flow with an impressive amount of water in what is usually a fairly sedate body of water.
The Metropole building in St Clair, Dunedin
I’d spent the afternoon wandering along St Kilda then St Clair beaches. From there, I ventured up along the Esplanade and along to the end of Second Beach. Arriving at the end of the coastal path with nowhere left to go, I turned and retraced my steps until I once more arrived at the Esplanade. It was at that point that I realised that having spent all afternoon on foot, I decided to reward myself with a beer at a nearby bar and restaurant called Salt. Not having any particular place to be in the next short while, I spent the next few hours happily drinking a few pints, eating food and reading a book. Suddenly noticing it was getting dark outside, I gathered my belongings that now seemed to be scattered across the table and headed for home.
Papanui Inlet Saltmarsh
The rain clouds were clearing, the wind had dropped and there were signs the blue sky that now was starting to appear, might be more than just a fleeting glimpse. I’d spent the best part of the early afternoon on Otago Peninsula, in and around the area of Hoopers Inlet. I then ventured over the short distance over an adjoining gravel road to nearby Papanui Inlet. It was there that I came across the Papanui Inlet Saltmarsh, located at the northern edge of the lagoon. Comprising of tidal salt meadows and saltmarshes, the estuary was still and calm leaving reflections of the distant shoreline in the tranquil tidal lagoon.
Twilight over Dunedin
I came to the edge of the harbour and looked out at the soft glow of twilight that took over the evening sky. The sun, having recently disappeared below the horizon, had left a brilliant gradient of glowing oranges, shimmering yellow’s, delicate pinks and fresh blue’s hovering in the distant skyline. As I watched the sun drop away, a deep, rich red glow glistened from the rooftops of the houses that could be seen across harbour on the Otago Peninsula. While I gazed at the changing twilight, the drifting evening tide created a smooth, warm glow that reflected the intense fading light.
The gathering twilight above the Dunedin Law Courts
A hushed calm took over the evening sky. As the sun dropped below the city skyline, a hypnotic dance of colour came forth, turning nearby buildings into silhouettes. Across the street, only the gothic style, Scottish baronial architecture was visible in the fading light. As I walked, the evening traffic navigated their way through the city streets as day transitioned into night. In the absences of the city street lights that were yet to take hold, shadows took hold as the evening hues started to fade from sight, giving way to the imminent night.
The stillness of dusk on the Pineapple Track.
In the stillness of dusk, the world seemed to pause as the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving behind a mesmerising hue of deep blue and fiery orange. The sky, vast, unyielding and endless with the last sunlight stretching upwards. Below, silhouetted against the glow, plants swayed gently, their outlines adding a ruggedness to the serenity. Far off in the distance, tiny pinpricks of light hinted at civilization. But here, above the hills of Dunedin, quiet, solemn, and captivating nature was in command.
The Hydro on the esplanade.
It was early evening and I had been wandering for some time. Eventually, I came to the Esplanade and strolled along the seafront, the buildings bathed in the soft glow of street lights, their warm light spreading halos across the deepening blue sky. The shark bell stood slightly imposing, sentinel over the promenade, a poignant reminder of a time when shark attacks seemed an altogether common occurrence in a bygone time. Nestled into the hillside beyond, the suburb of St Clair sparkled faintly in the background, adding a cozy touch to the urban serenity. It was one of those evenings where time seemed to slow in a silent sort of way.
The billiard room at Olveston
It’s only in recent years I’ve grown to love the 120 year old stately home of Olveston. Like so many locals, for years I both ignored it and simply forgot it was there. However, last year I decided to reconnect with the place and went on a tour of the grand house. When construction of the house was completed in 1907, the four storey building featured reception rooms, a library, a kitchen, downstairs guest rooms, a galleried hall rising from the ground and to the upper floors which also served as a ballroom. There was a billiard room, a card room, numerous bedrooms, with the top floor being servants’ quarters and the basement serving as a large laundry.
However, the entire time I was there, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why on earth the billiard room had been placed on the second floor. This seemed a little strange to me. If for no other reason than it seemed completely impractical. If we speculate for a moment that on a lovely Dunedin evening, when his family were entertaining guests with a fine meal with music, all the activities would be taking place on the ground floor. After a while, if for example the men wanted to retire to a separate room for brandy, billiards and cigars as was the custom, they would have then needed to head upstairs to the billiard and card room which is located right beside the bedrooms. Keeping this in mind, doesn’t the proximity of the billiard room to the main bedrooms seem a little close? Personally, and this is just me, I would have thought it would have been much more practical to have the billiard and card room on the ground floor of the house and as far away from the bedrooms as possible. At the very least this would have avoided the need to place extremely large steel girders beneath the floorboards to take the weight of the Olympic size billiard table which weighed over an impressive two tonnes. But I’m not an architect, so what would I know!
Sunrise over Tomahawk Beach
Recently, there have been some extremely lovely sunrises here in Dunedin. While I don’t know the exact science behind what causes a colourful sunrise, I believe it’s all to do with light beams coming into the earth’s atmosphere and hitting molecules. Then, something happens with blue lightwaves becoming shorter while red, orange and yellow lightwaves become longer while moving through the atmosphere. Of course, I could always be completely wrong!
Dawn on Tomahawk Road
There’s a moment in the early hours of the day, that is quite delightful. It’s before the sunrises and light floods the sky in the hour before dawn. As the darkness of night lifts and surrounding objects start to take shape, when the blue hour takes hold, a silent hush fills the new day. It’s quite a magical time in a nothing much is happening sort of way.
Ross Creek in Dunedin
The other day I posted a photo I took of a spider web with raindrops in Ross Creek. Well, this is the photo I was working on directly before I spotted that spider web. It’s taken with one of my less-used wide angle lenses that doesn’t get taken out and about as much as it used to. To give you an idea of how quickly the water was moving, this image was taken at 0.5 seconds. That really isn’t all that long for a water image where you want to show movement which means the water was moving through at a pretty quick clip!
Spring in the Octagon
Doesn’t the Octagon in Dunedin look lovely on a bright spring day? Yet, not long after it was first laid out in 1846, the site sat largely derelict for a long time. During that period the large Bell Hill separated the city to the north and south of the Octagon. It wasn’t until Bell Hill was substantially excavated that the two major early settlements to the north and south of the Octagon were linked that the area rose to prominence as the city’s central area.
Street Art by @hugovandorsser and Screaming Rooster Studio
For something different I wanted to see if I could capture a long exposure image during the day time. I made my way down to Vogel Street here in Dunedin and set up my gear under the overbridge that runs through former Jetty Street. Under the bridge, a painting which is part of the Dunedin Street Art trail by @hugovandorsser and Screaming Rooster Studio made a good backdrop as I waited for slow moving cars to pass by.
Spider web with raindrops at Ross Creek
The other week when we had all that rain, I went out in search of photos involving water. However, instead of walking the streets of South Dunedin and photographing houses that were flooding, I headed for some of the Dunedin bushwalks. One of those that I spent some time in was in and around Ross Creek from the Leith Valley entrance. In this area of the bush several small rivers run through the valley before connecting up with the Waters of Leith. I arrived to find the usually sedate stream had become inundated with water after nearly three days of heavy rain. It was while I was photographing one of the many bends and drops in the stream that I noticed a nearby spider web that was catching some of the rain drops that were falling through the canopy.
Corner of Tomahawk and Oakland Street (Out of the morning chaos comes bliss)
I emerged from my doorstep into the early morning light of a new day. Being spring, dawn was starting to break significantly earlier than it had a month ago yet, the mornings were still cold enough for heavy layers of dew to develop overnight. Having not been awake long enough to claim I was functioning to any high degree of cognitive skill, I headed off into the breaking dawn trying to work out what the heck I was doing up at such an hour, when I was actually on holiday. Then, I reminded myself. The light is always more interesting at this time of the morning. Exactly what I was looking for, I wasn’t too sure. So, I set up my tripod at a random intersection and waited for cars to drive past, creating a lovely long exposure effect. It was while I was waiting on one of these 25 second exposure shots that I decided I really was looking forward to a cup of coffee.
First light over Tomahawk Beack in Dunedin
Today marks a significant milestone for my daily photoblog from a Small City which I’m delighted to share with you. This is my one thousandths consecutive daily post. That’s one thousand days without missing a single day. One thousand days where at 6am (mostly) a different photo has been posted. When people ask what my blog from a Small City is about, my response is that it’s a photoblog about discovering small towns, forgotten points of interest and the curiosities of my island home. It’s about interesting and amusing stories told through words and images about life in Aotearoa.
In fact, when I started my purpose was to improve my photography through becoming a better writer. After all, it’s one thing to be able to take a photograph, it’s a completely different skill to be able to use words to create an ongoing narrative. I actually did a very rough calculation along with 1000 unique photos, I’ve written over 150,000 words!
So, to those people who keep coming back, thank you very much for sharing my creative joy and please share it among your friends. I sincerely hope you keep returning because I very much enjoy the creative challenge. It’s kind of like having 5 minutes of escapism every single day. Or to put it another way, 300 seconds escaping from reality or everyday matters.
Stain-glass window at Dunedin Railway Station
Aren’t stain-glass windows amazing? To think, we can thank both the Romans and Egyptians for becoming experts at creating objects made from coloured glass. While looking at this one in Dunedin at the Railway Station, I began to speculate about the person who had the idea of making a window out of it. I like to think their thought process went something like: ‘You know what, if we put that see-through coloured stuff in that empty space where the wind comes through, we might really have something.’ I wonder if they knew it would catch-on as much as it has!
Tulips at First Church
Before all that rain fell, the weather in Dunedin was actually rather fine, The preceding days had been warm, sunny and perfect for enjoying the delights of spring. For these reasons, and others that I can’t remember, I found my way into the central city in search of signs of spring. Upon arrival at the historic First Church, I discovered a delightfully elegant flower bed of tulips lining the entrance to the grand building.
Ross Creek during torrential rain on Friday morning.
Water of Leith near George Street on Friday morning.
Here’s a statistic for you, yesterday Dunedin had its wettest day in over a century. Three times the usual rainfall expected in October fell in the city in just 48 hours causing 38 road closures. It seems that the Metservice got it spot on with their heavy rain warnings earlier in the week. That really was a significant amount of rain that fell and was definitely a highly unusual event. Now, remind me again what sunshine looks like?