Moods of the Bay

I've been noticing the dramatic differences in the harbour on my walks through Wellington.  Every day is a composition of waves, boats, hills, houses, sun and sky.  I don't have any easy means to capture each morning.

Today was a new look.  I always look across the water back to the rising sun in the morning.  The clouds were thick on the horizon over the hills.  The water below gray and mildly choppy in the steady stout breeze.  The sky overhead was clear and the sun created a glowing, gold crest along the edges of the clouds it would soon rise above.  I was lucky enough to witness the moment it broke through.  It was like God turn on a light.  Dozens of folks, mostly unaware as to why, suddenly reached for sunglasses or shaded their eyes.  I was surprised how many did not even pause to look.  The sun rose over the clouds and lit the tops of the waves across the bay.  Dull windows sparkled in reflection.  Shadows created contrast from muted grays and half tones.  It was, of course, beautiful.

On other days I have seen the bay virtually smooth with only the tiniest ripples like dark hammered metal against a pale sky.  Always the high hills are jagged silhouettes between sea and sky.  Sometimes they are shrouded in mists. On one rainy day the far side of the bay disappeared in the fog.  The ocean faded to gray about 200 meters off the shore and even though I knew the hills were there, it felt like you would just drift out to the ocean in the mist.

Sometimes the sun sparkles across the whole bay.  Sometimes it strikes a beam across the water.  Once it shone like a bright light on a frosted mirror--fuzzy and diffuse.  It is amazing how many variations you can see in just a few weeks and all in the same season!  I look forward to seeing what else will be displayed on this canvas.