Red Rocks

If you look at a map of New Zealand (or Google Earth), you'll note a rather large uninhabited area west of Wellington. As part of our "training" for an upcoming 71 km hike along the Queen Charlotte Sound, we've spent the last couple of weeks exploring this area, and Red Rocks was this weeks installment. The coast is rugged, and in the Winter (May-Sept) is a "haul-out" for male fur seals who've finished second (or worse) in the late fall mating battles. Among the masses of bull kelp, we did see a single male twisting idly through the rocky shallows. Was he too old or infirm to return to the Southern waters, or just a confirmed bachelor?

In a moment of folly, we elected to take the mountain route back to Island Bay. So, 500 meters up we went, into the 70 km gusts that seemed almost sentient in their will to impede our upward progress. If we keep this up, we'll soon have legs of iron.

In other news, we had our first visitor (Ted, K's friend from SF), we celebrated the arrival of the Beaujolais Nouveau and the Kiwis won the Rugby League World Cup.

Karori, Turbines in Brooklyn, Santa Day Parade

Well, for some reason our internet server has slowed to a crawl for the past couple of weeks, making it essentially impossible to post pictures (a mercy, perhaps). As we are now fully settled into work, we've opted to take a couple of weekends to explore our near environs. Saturday was supposed to be the pick of the weekend days. As NZ weather forecasts are little better than educated guesses, we shouldn't have been surprised when we awoke to an overcast, windy day.

By the time noon rolled around, we figured it wasn't going to clear, but decided to head up to the karori reserve for a look around anyway. Amazingly, it's a 7 minute bus ride from our front door up to the forested hills that comprise this unique urban bird sanctuary. While it is not exceptionally scenic when compared to "pristine" bush, it does provide a protected space for rare (and not so rare) birds to breed, nest and feed. As a result, the tui, bellbird and other "natives" are almost as familiar to Wellingtonians as pigeons, house sparrows and blackbirds (remember, there are no squirrels here). Also, the tuatara-a rare prehistoric lizard--was discovered at karori a few years ago, and are now bred here. You'll have to trust me when I say we saw one; either that, or I'll e-mail you the pic.

After karori, we elected to take the "scenic" route home, which took us for several miles up a steep ridge overlooking the city, and ultimately to the wind turbine perched above the Brooklyn neighborhood (fuhgeddaboudit). Fun fact: NZ is actually on track to provide 80% of its energy from domestic renewable sources by 2025. On the looooong way up, we saw a tree weta--which is an insect about the size of a man's middle finger--devouring a juicy spider (also not pictured). Also seen were a few very intrepid mountain bikers and some truly insane runners. On the way down, a herd of elephants could have strolled by and we wouldn't have cared, we were so exhausted. 

For some strange reason, we went to the gym the next (gloriously sunny) day. It is located in a converted loft space, with several large windows and a juliet balcony overlooking Lambton Quay, down which the Santa's Day parade marched, an eclectic and culturally diverse celebration of the things we all associate with Christmas-- beach weather, long days, bollywood movies and Scottish marching bands.

41 below

At the summit of the small hill on the northern end of Kapiti Island, this stone arch juts westward into the Tasman Sea. Beautiful, yes, like so much of the land, but also personally significant to me. During my last year in Charleston--one of the most difficult times of my life--I googled "New Zealand",  mainly because it was the farthest place in the world from where I was then. The first image was a stone arch stretching out into the sea. I put that image on my desktop, and used to imagine myself there on the darkest days. Coming over the ridge and looking down at this--actually being "there"--was (and is) a reminder of how far we have come since then. 

The Language of birds- Kapiti island/ Rangatira

Considering the language of birds

I have formed no voice to mar the wind

for the kiwi calls through night's traverse

and the tui chants boon to day's end

Prior to the arrival of man, New Zealand was God's own aviary. From the forest floor, where tiny, flightless songbirds trolled the soil to the skies above the canopy, where massive eagles hunted stout-legged moa the size of three men-- every ecological niche was dominated by birds. Although Maori hunters and the Pacific rat had exacted a great toll on this diversity by 1773, Captain James Cook describes crescendos of birdsong that could be easily heard from anchorage offshore. The plow--as well as the Norway rat, possum and stoat--have largely finished the job that started a nearly millennium ago, and so Aotearoa is now a land of sheep and men. So many things are lost that will never return to this world.

Offshore islands such as Kapiti proved the last refuge for the few survivors, while those who could not fly rely upon the kind-hearted among men to bring them here. And here they thrive. So no pictures this time, but rather sounds. Nowhere else on earth will you hear this concert. Starting with the ballistic "stitch" of the hihi and the squawk of the kaka, then to the urgent trill of the saddleback and cry of the weka. Finally, the chattering of kakariki and the polyphony of the tui. Click the link below to play "kapiti songs". Enjoy.

VISIT

splakespolt

Not To Be Too Political, But...

OBAMA WINS!!!!!!!  HURRAH!!!!!!!