The morning did not look very promising. Dragging the feet out of cosy bed early(ish) just to get scolded by gulping hot tea and scratched by the neighbour’s cat, who decided she wanted to come in when I was getting out. Not to mention the pretty good chance of getting a speeding ticket for trying to make it in time for the sunrise. Oh why could I not pick less stretching hobby – as there was anything wrong with chess, stamps or wine tasting clubs…. Wrapped in countless layers of merino, polar fleece and – just in case – a body-warmer I ended up gazing towards the majestic Rangitoto - hot tea in the hand and a lot of hot swears directed towards the big, fat cloud sitting exactly where the sun was supposed to be coming up in 56 seconds. Drizzle came next... It is already 10 minutes past the sunrise. Some stranded rays are shooting upwards and sideways from behind the cloud. The fluorescent-like, cold light makes the morning feel even damper and colder. Steel-coloured sky above the city of sails.
As the sun went up and the air finally started to warm, pockets mist commenced their way up. Numerous white chimneys of smoke - yet no Pope to be announced...
Frail rays of the rising sun shyly peaked from behind the edges of the thinning slowly cloud. On the ground, the mist intensified, engulfing at first buildings and trees, while rising up to become one with the Long White Cloud. A game of shadows was in full play...
As the sun moved up by a notch, more and more sun rays drilled through the thick of the annoying cloud. The scene ignited as the sun hit the raising mist. Rich, yellow colours started dancing in front of the lens. One ray hits the sky behind the Skytower, igniting it like a fire ranging through golden coloured savannah.
It did not last more than a minute. The mist, being scolded by the rays, flexed its muscle for the last time. A thick blanket covers the hill. Droplets of water form on the filter and legs of the tripod.
Visibility drops to a couple of meters. The air smells of moist. Rangitoto and Sky Tower disappear in the mist. As the dance between the light and mist continues, a vague silhouette of the famous landmarks appear and disappear. Time for a pano of the 'City in the Mist'. If only I can manage to wipe the filters, lens and follow the swiftly changing light to make sure it can be stitched. Click - click - click.
"Did I get it?" "How many water droplets on the lens?" As the thoughts race through a ray of the rising sun hits the hill I'm on. It feels like standing in one of these energy-saving bulbs: weak, shy glow at first. Than the whole surrounding starts to glow. Surrounded by light.
Whatever the morning started as it ended up like magic. Forget the scolding, scratches and lack of sleep. This was well worth the effort... Forget about chess, stamps - as for wine - always can do AFTER the sunset.
