Colored Lights

Mt Taranaki
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My New Year’s Eve plans started out with a text message very stereotypically High School, ‘My parents are out of town; party at their house,’ which was a little out of place in this stage of my life. I was visiting my friend Steph in Taranaki, the province about 5 hours north of Wellington, where she grew up. Walking down the main street of New Plymouth, she laughed, pulling at her too tight top, inching it down to met the unmatched gym shorts, conscious that she looked like the stereotypical Naki girl. The area has the reputation of being a little backwards, which is not unlike Iowa in that respect. So as you can imagine my New Year’s Eve wasn’t flash.  The fireworks display of the next door neighbors was the most exciting event, the greens, yellows and reds hovering over the tree line of the back garden before fizzling away.  Midnight was shown in by an impromptu broomstick limbo content and two countdowns because no one’s watch agreed. At ten past, the party was down to three of us, so we spent the first hour of the new year chatting in a luke warm hot tub.

Painted sky
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If a light show makes for a good New Year’s Eve, then I had mine a few days early, just not in the form of fireworks. Every year Pukekura Park in New Plymouth (the largest Naki town) lights up the night. Although the event is during the holidays and into January, it wasn’t a Christmas theme. There were no strings of white or red or green Christmas lights circling the palm trees. Instead, colored florescent bulbs lit up the trees and fountains, even the children’s play area, shining up through the leaves from the base of the tree or hidden amongst its branches. As you may have noticed I’m a big fan of color and this left nothing to be desired. There were bright blues, emerald greens, fire engine reds, royal purples and even a few of my less favorite orange and yellows, blending together or taking their turns like the waterfall changing from color to color as it fell to each new level. A black light section turned the viewer’s teeth and clothes a spooky glow to match the crepe paper flowers and stones floating above their heads in the inky black of night. The adventurous rowed boats through the lake, multi-colored reflections rolling over the waves created in their wake. Tube lights were woven in and out of the wood bridge railing, cycling through their neon shades as we neared the end of our tour.

The sky began to paint with its watercolors, deepening with each stroke of time.

Blend
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Nature was not to be left out and delivered a beautiful light show of its own on my last night. Steph and I picnicked on fish and chips looking down over the Sugarloaf Islands and Mount Egmont, better known as Mount Taranaki, looking out to sea over our shoulders. Above the islands sits a decaying smoke stack that has become aligned with the region as much as the mountain it encircles. The dichotomy fascinates me, being known for its beaches and natural beauty, but also as the largest power producer in New Zealand. Three story power lines run through the landscape like a scar, drilling platforms sit offshore just far enough you have to squint at the horizon before you realize it isn’t a poorly designed ship, and driving up the Surf Highway brings you past a refinery with a very blue backyard. 

Waterfall
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After the picnic we followed the coast aiming for the chalk cliffs that farewell travelers heading north out of Taranaki. The curiosity of a country road was greater than the desire to make our destination, so we ended up on a beach looking up at them from a distance. The tide was inching closer to the brown stone walls with every minute, soaking my sandals when I was too busy looking through the viewfinder to see the waves coming. Back on the road, the sky began to paint with its watercolors, deepening with each stroke of time. We found the nearest beach facing back to town; its cityscape silhouetted by the changing sky. Nature found another canvass in the silver of the wet sand, broken up by worn black stone that had yet to be ground down to sand by the changing tides. I ran around taking picture after picture, while Steph stood wrapped in a blanket and watched the show.