Daily Photo – Wandering in the early hours
An early morning exploration of some of Dunedin’s darkened walkways and alleyways.
Afternoon Wandering In Dunedin
Wonderful Audible
When I’m not listening to Spotify or Podcast, then I’m on audible listening to books. Audible is amazing and it really is mindboggling how many titles are on there!
You can find it here: https://www.audible.com/ep/audiobooks
Daily Photo – Afternoon wandering in Dunedin
The other week, I was wandering through central Dunedin late on a sunny winter’s afternoon. There was some crazy afternoon light hanging over the city, and not much traffic, which made a nice change, so I had plenty of time to line up the shots I wanted. In fact, to get a bit of elevation in this image, I had to stand on a narrow stone wall, which required a decent balancing act. If I’d fallen forwarded, I’d have toppled over a metal rail and spilled out all over the street. Fortunately, back in the day when the church was constructed, they made things pretty solid, and wide!
Dusk On A Winters Evening
Put this on your podcast list!
Titanic – Ship of Dreams: This is currently my favourite podcast. Over 14 eposides you follow the ship’s journey from Belfast across the Atlantic, through to the tragic collision with the iceberg and after. Spoiler alert, the shipsinks! Not only do you hear amazing stories from victims and survivors, but you discover how the extraordinary conditions on the ocean that night only added to the confusion.
You can find it here: https://www.noiser.com/titanic-ship-of-dreams
Daily Photo – Dusk on a winters evening
So I’ve started another video project featuring Dunedin and lots of my images. It’s been rattling around inside my head for a while and it’s about time I did something about it. Some of the images are recent while others come from the last two to five years so it’s a bit of a mixed bag. Unfortunately, it’s not the type of project that’ll be finished quickly, but I can share with you an image that’s making the final cut – dusk in Dunedin on a winter eveing.
Venedin
Otago’s Lens on the Wild World
The Tūhura Photography Exhibition is on again at Otago Musuem in Dunedin until the 12th October. It’s always a fantastic competition with stunning images featuring entries across four categories: Wildlife, Botanical, Landscape, and Natural Abstract. There’s video presentations, hands-on family activities, rare wildlife specimens, and you can even vote for your favourite in the People’s Choice Award. Best of all – it’s free!
Daily Photo – Venedin
There’s been a bit of rain around Dunedin lately – so much in fact, that a few of the areas around town started to look a bit like Venice, with large puddles spilling over across the streets. While the regular traffic flow around the city was disrupted, the upside was that puddles are great fun to splash around in. They also make great photo opportunities, particularly when coupled with a historic building or two!
The Organ Pipes
Daily Photo – The Organ Pipes
Let’s rewind the clock around 15 million years, and we’d find ourselves in a very different version of Dunedin. For starters, the scenery would be dominated by a restless volcano that had a habit of erupting with little warning. During one of its more dramatic outbursts, lava spilled out across the land. As it cooled, it contracted and cracked, creating striking hexagonal basalt columns. These natural formations can still be seen today in spots like Lawyers Head, Blackhead, and the Pyramids at Okia Reserve on the Otago Peninsula. Over the course of millions of years, wind, rain, and time itself have sculpted the land, slowly shaping features like the Organ Pipes into the rugged forms we now recognise, and many of us enjoy clambering over on a sunny afternoon.
Kaimata Road
Daily Photo – Kaimata Road
Once again we have the metaphor of lines dissolving into the horizon in my work. Only this time the road adds another element. Here, the fence line draws the eye through and intersects with an old gravel road, both threading into the brooding grey sky. In moments like this the land seems to pause, as though waiting. There’s a tension between what is visible and what remains just out of reach and beyond. The light was heavy, with only wire, grass, and sky, but that’s all that’s needed.
Esplanade Sea Fog
Daily Photo – Esplanade sea fog
Late in the evening, I stepped out onto the St Clair Esplanade, greeted by a thick sea fog that had rolled in silently over the last hour. I’d been tucked away just around the corner at a bar called Salt, enjoying the comforting heaviness of a burger, the sharpness of pickles and charred beef softened by a few leisurely pints. Inside was warm, bustling with catter and the clink of glasses; outside, the night was taking hold.
Streetlamps glowed like lanterns in the mist, casting soft, hazy light that stretched down the esplanade in a procession. I could hear the ocean breathing somewhere just beyond the railings. The fog had a way of absorbing sound and scattering light, wrapping everything in stillness. I wandered slowly, past the old signpost pointing to far-off places and the poem stencilled along the sea wall. For a moment, I had the coast to myself—just the hum of distant waves, the glow of lamps, and the heavy quiet of the fog.
Your Latest Trick
Daily Photo – Your Latest Trick
Having parked on Dowling Street sometime around 5am, I stepped out into a city still half-asleep. All the late night bargains had long since been struck and at this early hour a light rain was falling, soft enough to hear and just enough to give the pavement that glassy, reflective sheen. I wandered slowly up Princes Street toward Moray Place, the streets almost entirely empty.
At that hour, traffic was rare, just the occasional car slipping past, leaving a quiet trail of red or white light behind it. The city felt like it was waiting. The wet road turned everything into a mirror. Streetlights flared, traffic signals shimmered, and colours stretched out in long lines across the ground. I set up briefly in the middle of the street, camera ready, letting long exposures pull light out of the darkness.
For a few minutes, it felt like the city to myself. Peaceful, quiet, and still. A moment between night and day.
The Viper’s Nest
Daily Photo – The Viper’s Nest
It was just after 8:00pm on an early winter’s night and the street was quiet, slick after the evening rain. Somewhere down South Road, a muffled hum of tyres approached, rising like a tide and receding just as fast. The local shops lit in glowing pastel of blues and purples, like some kind of retreat in a sea of black. It was cold. Not quite bone-deep cold, but enough that you kept your hands in your pockets and your shoulders hunched against it.
In the dark, the streetlights stretch like starbursts, the reflections glinting off wet asphalt, and the long streaks of red and white from passing cars that blur time in a single frame. Earlier in the day, it hadn’t seemed like much, just another row of low shops, a street lined with parked cars and bins tucked against fences. But now, with the city mostly tucked in for the night, it had a kind of eerie beauty. The kind that only reveals itself when no one’s really looking.
I could’ve been home. Warm. Dry. Probably halfway through a movie and a cup of tea. Instead, I was crouched on a street corner in Dunedin, camera balanced, breath fogging, waiting for headlights to draw silver and gold lines across the road. Waiting for the shutter to catch the passing of time.
Theatre of Shadows
Daily Photo – Echoes in the empty seats and whispers in the wings
If there’s one truth about theatres, it’s that they’re riddled with secrets. Behind every heavy door, down each narrow stairwell, and beyond dimly lit corridors lie forgotten spaces and hidden corners that whisper stories of performances past. Just when you believe you’ve uncovered every inch, a shadowed hallway appears, one you swear wasn’t there before and leads you to a part of the theatre shrouded in mystery. And there’s nothing quite as haunting or spellbinding as standing alone in the silence of a grand, empty auditorium with 1600 vacant seats staring back at you. It’s a moment that stirs something deep in your bones.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The Glorious Otago Harbour
The Otago Harbour
The glorious Otago Harbour as viewed from the Otago Peninsula on a stunning autumn day. With warm temperatures and not a breath of wind, the harbour was as calm as a millpond from dawn till dusk. It was a scene made from pure magic as the sunlight danced on the water while birds gracefully wheeled overhead.
Dunedin’s Quiet Moments: Peninsula Sunrise
Peninsula Sunrise
An early morning trek on the Otago Peninsula to capture the sunrise on a stunning autumn day in May.
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.