The little things

In a place like Wanaka you could be overwhelmed by the scale and grandeur of lake, mountains, sky – or even of the massive crane on a lake-side building site, as yet another speculator tries to make millions from this desirable place. A grand scale clash of values.

Smaller details have held my gaze this year. The stump of a silver-dollar gum, tiny fox gloves (which I later found are moth mullein or goldenrod), fuzzy grasses beside a stone seat…

This morning, tiny blue moths (later research revealed these to be the common blue butterfly) fluttered across the path I walked. They were too tiny and too fast to photograph. Other small details stood still long enough.

Even more exotic, were these lilies in the Winders Street garden I admire every year.

There are rowan trees everywhere.

Along the lake-side, half hidden and covered in leaves, are several small dinghies and catamarans. Have their owners grown and gone?

Kind conservationists have provided several nests for grebes, such as this.

Spring Hill – where said speculators try to tame nature – continues to provide spring water where people (me included) fill their water bottles.

In the shady courtyard of Soul Food I enjoy the morning paper with a ginger spice juice, with aluminium straw.

The local fruit is delicious.

Other small delights include scones at Edgewater, warm woollies for colder days, locally made clothing at Glowing Sky (the translation of Rakiura, Stewart Island), the Sunday market, the Thursday yacht race, favourite restaurants and cafes, swimming on hot days while little dogs show off their dog paddle as they fetch sticks.

The wind can howl through here and no one ventures on to the lake to entertain us (the cowards). The nor’ west makes my hair rise comically with static and I get shocks from window latches and even the kitchen sink.

I had to photograph this sign on Golf Course Road. Mum offered to pose in front of it. I would have done just as well.

The evening sky draws me away from the little things to the grandeur again.

As it grows darker, lights come on around the curve of the bay. Water laps against the boats in the marina. The breeze is soft and warm.