“This week, capture something between two things, reflect on the process of transition, or interpret this word in your own way.”
This photo was taken in a geothermal park called Hells Gate, near Rotorua, in New Zealand. My wife (pictured), son and I were on holiday in New Zealand last month (May), visiting friends and family, but mostly site-seeing.
May in New Zealand, situated as it is, in the Southern Hemisphere, is Autumn (or Fall, if you’re of the American persuasion). I’ve always thought of Autumn as a kind of in-between season. For me Summer and Winter are highlights of the year and I’ve always felt a little, “meh”, about Autumn.
That is, until recently. For the last 8 years I’ve been living in Singapore, where we effectively have very limited seasonal variation, being only 5 degrees latitude from the Equator. Because of my extended period of non-contact with Autumn and its astonishing burnt-colour palette of oranges, reds and yellows, I’m now gobsmacked when driving along country roads bathed in strikingly warm tones and hues. I’m now seeing it as if for the first time – as indeed it is for my wife who has lived all her life in the tropics. Together we experienced the full majesty and wonder of Autumn draping the North Island in all its rich vivid finery. A final display of polychromatic exuberance before the sober, cold, grey touch of Winter descends.