‘White Rose Purity’
I know what a white rose is supposed to symbolise, but purity would have to be the most elusive human quality of them all. It is certainly aspirational though.
The white rose also means ‘new beginnings’. That might be a bit more relatable, given that our lives are a succession of endings and fresh starts, whether we plan them or not.
So then, take your pick – just don’t get pricked…
‘Down At The Dockside Again’
More mindless ship watching (see Down At The Dockside At Dawn for more).
Got me out of the office at least.
This time a Bahaman behemoth lies at the wharf – the intriguingly named “Firmament Ace”.
Freight rolls on and off, the shutter clicks and it’s back to work, wondering where she is headed next.
Not an office I’ll wager…
‘Salty Dog Day Afternoon’
…oh, to be happy and free as a dog amongst the waves…
‘Against The Odds’
…you can get choked by adverse forces, but you just might grow despite them…
‘Beauty is Hard To Find Sometimes’
‘Gnarled’
…every branch tells a story; every life is this tree…
‘Please Slide To Open’
There is a chink of light outside the door.
Slide the door.
Don’t pull it, or push it.
There is a slight opening, which will get bigger as you go.
Ease into the light, for you cannot force it.
Outside awaits you.
‘Behind The Wall’
This shot found me peering over a stone wall in a quiet Scottish fishing town.
A lush lawn and garden is revealed, in contrast to the wall’s austerity.
Surprising!
Some people have hard, stony exteriors which don’t invite you in.
Maybe the facades hide softer, verdant souls…
A favourite Auckland place – the short, curving breakwater at the Devonport shore.
I have visited there a number of times before, but this time around I was drawn to its pure functionality.
The sandy beach just out of shot was protected by the waves driven by a fresh south-easterly wind.
There was calm in the lee of the solid pier.
The breakwater was doing its job.
Which had me thinking about what breaks the adverse forces that fall upon us in life.
There is something about resilience in this. The tools that we have at our disposal or the things we learn along the way, that mitigate the effect of the negative and the harmful.
I spent a great part of my adult life not realising that resilience was even a quality. Stuff happened and you just dealt with it well, or didn’t, as the case may have been.
Which is sort of leaving things to chance.
The reason some people bounce back from tumult or disaster, and others don’t, doesn’t come down to genetics or your star sign.
It is our hard earned resilience that makes the difference. That is: learning from experience; realising that existence is both fluid and fragile; and finding shelter (or a breakwater) when you need it.
Just as an aside, resilience should not be confused with stoicism. I have learned the difference between the two the hard way. Stoicism is pretending you are the breakwater.
In life, as in the shoreline scene, we find ourselves on either side of the breakwater at different times.
Resilience is just knowing where to position yourself when the waves toss up.
A return to the place between, of neither/nor ;to the weathered piles of the wharf, where the barnacles cling…I find myself there again.
‘View From The Rotunda’
More of the rotunda (see Band Rotunda ),this time from within the vintage structure in the Auckland Domain.
It’s quiet now, but come summer, come post-Covid (whenever that will be),there will be concerts, bands and music to lift the spirit.
Meantime, there is a pause before the show that hits the right notes for me, right now.
‘Parched’
This is what a drought does.
It leaves the local freshwater lagoon almost devoid of water and its normally hidden base soil left desiccated and cracked.
From a photographer’s perspective the repetitive abstract patterns of the dried mud are brilliant.
But the birdlife and fish at the lagoon have struggled through Auckland’s worst dry spell in a quarter century .They have boxed on in their sad-arse environs and I have felt sorry for them.
Rain is forecast for today, mercifully. The dawn showers are starting to fall, the heavier stuff will roll in later in the day. Being a pluviophile (rain lover) of sorts, I have a sense of keen anticipation. And the ducks, herons, geese, eels and carp are gonna love it!
When you are parched, you fully appreciate that which slakes your thirst.
‘ Morning Magic’
In the morning, when you carry out the mild drudgery of hanging the laundry on the line, and you spy a dew sprinkled flower above the fence catching the sun – there is magic amongst the mundane.
For there always is…
‘Stepping It Out’
Stepping up, stepping down
steps cut both ways you know
take them to the top
or to the place below
if I cross you on the steps
let’s swap notes
on our destinations
or maybe stay awhile
in the middle
content without extremes
whichever way
we step it out
the increments mark our time.
‘Ebbed Out, Not Effed Up’
So, the tide has ebbed and gone out.
Your flow has flown, so to speak.
Maybe it’s a rock bottom.
Or perhaps you’re just lying on the mud and silt; motionless, hanging onto your ropes and reflecting only yourself dimly.
But, you are not f**ked up, not finished yet – the next tide will come to re-purpose you – just you wait and see!
‘Freight Train Passing’
Looking down to Judge’s Bay from the tranquility of the rose garden , I am met with the clattering noise of a freight train .It’s on the main trunk line, laden with shipping containers, bound for god knows where.
If the peace is momentarily shattered, I am actually comforted by the rumble from the tracks beneath me and the brute ugliness of the containers and rusty carriages.
For it signifies “business as usual”.
For all the strictures of lockdown and pandemic-fueled economic recession, the passing train and its cargo tell me that normal activity is actually happening out there.
Good shit headed for people who will do good shit with it…
‘Guiding Light’
When it all gets a bit tangled and gloomy, we all need a guiding light, someone or something, to see us through.
Song for the day, to match, from Television’s classic 1977 debut album, ‘Marquee Moon’:
“Guiding light, guiding light
guiding through these nights”
‘Forbidden Garden’
I know, with a headline like that, you might expect something exotic and mysterious.
The answer, in the case of the walled garden and fountain at Auckland’s Parnell Rose Gardens, is not like that at all. The garden is simply locked during lockdown, and I had to make do with a shot though a gap in the iron gates on the weekend.
There is nothing, however, like not being able to do or have something to make you f**king want it all the more.
Frustrating!
Adam and Eve, back in the day, didn’t put up with a little frustration in the Garden of Eden. They can take all the blame…
‘Healing’
” Healing doesn’t have to look magical or pretty. Real healing is hard, exhausting and draining. Let yourself go through it. Don’t try to paint it as anything other than what it is. Be there for yourself with no judgment.” – Audrey Kitching
‘Moored’
This is the last in sequence of seven posts featuring boats and boatyards, all taken on a wet and dreary afternoon on Auckland’s Tamaki River a couple of days ago.
Not that I am any sort of boatie or seafarer. Far from it, but I do like the look of small vessels and the idea of travel across water in them.
There is just something in the idea of the intrepid voyage that captivates and inspires me.
However, in the photo, the yachts are at their moorings. In the other pictures there are boats up on the hard, on cradles for storage or maintenance, or tied by ropes to a wharf.
In hiatus.
Going nowhere fast.
Frustrating, right?
Boats are for sailing, but they can’t do that without repair, repainting and a general overhaul from time to time.
It is necessary, as much part of sailing or boating as getting out on the water.
When the vessels are at rest, it is also time for their owners and skippers to chart new courses and dream of great excursions.
And, thus prepared, adventures await…
