Motueka and its environs provide some really nice scenery that we thoroughly enjoy on our keep-fit perambulations.

The first five photos were taken as we circumnavigated the inner estuary bounded on the eastern side by the causeway leading to Port Motueka. A nice four-kilometre ramble.

The last photo is very close to where the first settlers of the area came ashore in 1842.

It's that time of year again.

Spring.

Something we missed for the many years we spent in the tropics. The fruit trees are all in blossom and the pigeons are checking out whether the tender leaf buds are ready to eat.

 We haven't seen many honeybees yet. Hopefully they'll turn up to help turn these pretty blossoms into juicy plums.

 I've found that a low-altitude sun brings out the colours on many of our native birds, but, strangely, the tui's colours seem to be stronger in overcast conditions.

With the arrival of our new family member, Sam, we are reminded that dogs have owners and that cats have servants! Our daughter, Kathryn and her husband Daniel recently changed jobs, lifestyle and locale and it was thought that Sam, being the big softy that he is, would not make the move very easily, so he has come to live with us.

After an initial settling in period, kept inside for the first two weeks, hiding under beds and behind curtains, he has ventured out and checked out the woolshed and the wood pile.

 "My servants must have caught all the rats - can't smell any here."

 Some of the locals are not that impressed with the new immigrant, however, and are keeping a watchful eye out for any hostile moves.

 "Cripes, this catnip is driving me nuts!"

I rather suspect that the introspective look may indicate plotting how he can get is new servants to prepare a repast of bird pie.

One second in the life of a tui.

If you've ever wondered why it is so difficult to take a photo of birds going about their everyday business, the photos below, which were taken within the same second using my old Canon EOS 350D, may go some way in explaining why. The speed at which they flit about boggles the mind, and frustrates the amateur photographer whose finger can never push the camera button in time to catch his subject as he would wish. By the time the brain frames the shot and sends the signal to the finger to push the button, the subject is ten feet away and all the hopeful photographer will see in his picture is empty space.

The temperature was 11.1° C. Perhaps that is why his ablutions were so brief?

 Timestamp. 3:13:47 p.m.

 Timestamp. 3:13:47 p.m.

Timestamp. 3:13:47 p.m.