Matiu

Lunch with self confessed "white collar greenie" and long-time committed conservationist Colin Ryder, somehow led me to the ferry next day, and Matiu/Somes Island. The little place that sits out there in the middle of my office view. Matiu has a chequered history; fortress, quarantine station, p.o.w camp and farm. It is now a recovering island paradise. Dedicated volunteers have replanted all but the most historic sites on the island, and now the bush is starting to flourish. Kakarikis, which I have not seen so close since a visit to Whenua Hou, play like fighter jets through the whiteywood.

Tuatara live here too, and weta. Cook Strait Giant Weta! And Blue Penguins around 800 banded at last count. The uncommon spotted shag roost on the south end of the island, which we peer over, looking back towards Wellington, the natural city, nestled in the arms of Tangaroa. It is great to be out here. This place that so many stare at. On this harbour of the many moods.

Greytone

Its greytone today. Southerlies from Africa, straight down from the Cape of Good Hope (where they are northerlies) over the frozen continent and straight up our spines. The front last night dumped plenty of snow on the Tararuas. I can just see the thrills of the skirt now. Just before the sun shone briefly on the headwaters of the Hutt. A haze of piercing subdued light, which I know from my time in the mountains can give false warmth and optimisim before the greytone returns.