Light and dark

I had an errand and called in on a friend after work so it was late when I biked down Barbados St.

Striking viewed large

An extraordinary change in the weather was taking place. Huge CB clouds loomed over the peninsula and the setting sun angled beneath created dramatic light on the city (or remains of it).

I stopped to capture the light on ruins of the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament. By the time I'd put my camera back in bike pannier the light had gone. As I biked over the over the Waltham overbridge I was treated to show of lightning over the southern end of the Port Hills. I was home before the storm hit.

It's 2 years since the 7.1 magnitude earthquake. I recall the terror and the many minutes it took me to text my brother and Dad with my shaking hands from under the stairs. I remember my amazement at walking outside at day break and seeing a largely normal world (expect for missing chimneys and the odd fallen wall). I remember my fear as darkness fell. I phoned Dad and he talked to me as I collected a few things from upstairs before I camped downstairs on the sofa for the night. All night quakes rolled through. Little did we know what had started.

2 years on these are strange times. The earth is quieter but it still rumbles. And we know in our hearts it will jolt again, such is the nature of where we live. We see and experience remarkable acts of grace of kindness. But thousands experience burdens of stress you wouldn't think possible in a land like New Zealand. Commercial greed and power, and political and institutional incompetence deny people their legal insurance entitlement.

The 12000 + earthquakes have brought out the best and the worst in us. Both are in sharp relief. I still have hope we'll see people count as much as a plan for our CBD. I'm still glad I live here.