Waikuku. Feb.2009. Ajr
It was high summer when I visited Waikuku Beach last - about 30 minutes north of Christchurch. The clouds were clearing, ready for another blistering hot day and early walkers were out and about before the heat. I wandered the beach for a while; I picked my way through part of the pine forest that separates the little community from the sea; I photographed some of the fantastic fat hedges that enclose old baches; and I sat on the edge of this river, watching shags fighting in the trees along its banks. As I sit here now, in the middle of a freezing, bare, bleak Christchurch winter, it seems a world away - a place and a time so remote and removed as to be unreal.
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