The drive to Glenorchy with the icy vistas of Lake Wakatipu reminds us yet again of Peter Jackson’s Middle Earth trilogies, of the many scenes filmed of hobbits and men, of dwarves and elves, paddling along in boats, tumbling forth in barrels, wherever the river takes them.
Our road brings us to the town centre, which is smaller than we expected, given the breadth and depth of the landscape around us. Perhaps this is the right way; more room for nature. Men shouldn’t take up so much space.
The mountain Pikirakatahi and its lolling ranges tell us there is no hurry.
The wetlands wait for every man, woman and child. The going is easy with a well-marked wooden boardwalk.
Birdlife abounds here, from oystercatchers to bitterns. Pied stilts, scaups and shovellers. Grey teal and grey ducks. But more than anything else, there are swans, most of them a handsome black. A splash of midnight beneath the noonday sun.
Above our heads we sight a solitary karearea – the New Zealand falcon – gliding, circling, on the hunt for prey.
We spot a little boy staring into the water, looking for goodness knows what, till his father calls him and he runs off.
Along the boardwalk, the waters of the lagoon lap lazily against the planks. We have been warned that the path can get flooded after heavy rains. But it has been dry for some days, so we are safe. Our shoes remain dry for the most part.
Over and over, we see swans dipping their long, elegant necks into the water, their webbed feet turned upwards into the air. Less graceful than you’d imagine but that’s life for you.