A Winter Morning from King George Terrace, Looking Out Toward Trial Island

Winter mornings like this are a bit of a gamble. The forecast looked bad, the radar looked worse, and the weather itself was doing exactly what winter on the south Island does best — cold, wet, and generally unpleasant. Still, there was a hint of light when I left the house, and sometimes that’s enough to at least go see what happens.

King George Terrace wasn’t the original plan, but it ended up being the right call. By the time I arrived, conditions were miserable. Rain, low cloud, and very little to suggest anything was about to improve. I stood there for a bit, half expecting to pack it in and head home, but instead I waited. Not because I was optimistic — more because I was already there.

Then, briefly, things shifted.

The rain backed off just enough. The sky opened in patches. Looking east, Trial Island came into view with soft winter light reflecting off the water. It wasn’t dramatic or explosive — just calm, quiet, and honest. The kind of light that doesn’t last long and doesn’t announce itself when it shows up.

Turning south, Gonzales Bay sat quietly below, still holding on to late-season colour along the shoreline. I spent a lot of time in this part of town years ago, and mornings like this always bring back memories I don’t expect until I’m standing there again. Familiar places have a way of doing that.

As quickly as it opened, the window started to close. A brief rainbow appeared through the mist toward Clover Point before the rain moved back in and the light flattened out again. That was it. No second act, no miracle turnaround — just a short, usable moment in an otherwise rough morning.

Those are often the mornings that stick with me the most.

This set of images came from standing in one place and letting the conditions do what they were going to do, rather than trying to force anything. Sometimes that’s all these winter outings are — showing up, waiting, and being ready when a small opportunity appears.