Oriental Bay glowed golden this morning, the lowest sun of the year dawning across an uncharacteristically still harbour. The sun shone back on the city, picking out the office towers, and bathing them in sunlight and warmth of colour (at least), bringing the only colour to the scene as the surrounding hills and suburbs remained dark and grey.
As usual early in the morning on a still day, the seagulls were lined up on the sand, looking out to the flat, calm water like an audience waiting, but waiting for what I don’t know. Perhaps, like the angels in the movie with Meg Ryan and Nicholas Cage, they were honouring the sunrise. It’s a mystery, one that puzzles me regularly.
There were a lot of cute dogs out enjoying their walks on this lovely morning, tugging their owners along with them, tongues hanging out (the dogs, though maybe some of the owners too) happily.
Across the harbour, I could see low cloud hanging about the hills, and up into the largest valley, there was a thick bank of cloud obscuring any possible view of the mountains, last seen several days ago (maybe even a week) covered in snow.
But as I drove on, the clouds were coming in, portending rain and gloom, and the usual bright spot on my drive, the Evans Bay marina and boat sheds, seemed to be lit in an ominous light. But the view from the gym was a reward; it’s not a bad place to work-out when my main complaint is being blinded by a bright silvery light from the sun, reflecting back across the water, a direct path of light from that distant star to my treadmill.