Lake Taupo – branded as the Great Lake – where I’ve been holed up, walking beside, staring at, thinking about, photographing trying describe some relationship to the water in a way that embraces and makes use of the cliched.
Everywhere there’s water – the hot tub under its little thatched hut, the kidney shaped baby-blue swimming pool, the glittering blue eye of the Waikato River and the constant swishing of the great grey lake that runs as far as you can gaze. Around the shores birds live their purposeful lives, feathery trees stretch as far as they can on rocky outcrops and designer homes are fastened to the views.
I’d publish a picture but Nikon hasn’t yet put wireless into its grown-up cameras. Words will have to do.