Soaring trip to New Zealand Draws to an end

From “The Prelude” By Wordsworth

“There are in our existence spots of time
Which with distinct re-eminence retain
A renovating Virtue, whence…our minds
Are nourished and invisibly repaired.”

As this trip draws to an end, I know I have been lucky enough to experienced such moments. I am compelled to travel to find those spots of time. It is my great fortune to have the support and encouragement of someone who can not always join me, but finds joy in my quests.The trip to the South Island gave me more beauty than I could process, beauty that chained the clock and made that moment a spot in time that will be mine as long as I live.
As I sit at the Wellington Club House trying to pick the pictures that most clearly capture the spirit of the poem, New Zealand plays another trick on me.  The wind is blowing furiously from the East, and the clouds peal off the mountainous island in front of me. Layers upon layers roll in an ever-changing masterpiece of color and light- pale yellows and gray mixed with pink over the setting sun. Tea cups and saucers, cylinders and marshmallow shaped clouds dance along the ridge line. To the West the moisture builds up on the ridges and mountains turning them into a swirl of purples and blues. The movement of this ever-changing masterpiece is so rapid that the clouds race to keep the streaks of pale blue sky at bay.  The cloud mass now nearly reaches the ground and the wind roars.  There is a rare intensity in the air masses this close to the water.  The power the wind possess as it whips off the Tasman Sea is captured in the movement of the clouds.
Then, just as I was ready to end this description, the setting sun pushed up the clouds, bringing a burst of blue to the sky.   The yellow clouds responded with a bow and turned to pink before the setting sun.
I can select some moments I have caught with my camera, but I will never be able to capture the power of the wind on a small island in the South Pacific

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