After days of torrential rain, stepping outside into the bush is so rewarding. The track slides beneath my boots, slick with mud a loose gravel. I walk slowly so I don’t fall flat on my face. This has its benefits, by taking the time to watch each step, I start to notice the things at ground level I might normally miss.

“Nearby is the South Georgia pintail, with bright yellow bill and cartoonishly round head. South Georgia lacks the lush plant and invertebrate life we have here on Waiheke, so the pintail forages his feed on the scraps of king penguin bones. They dabble in the shallow water and waddle in groups amongst the four-ton elephant seals.”

“The unmissable trill of their descending call stops me in my pace. Above me is a flowering manuka tree, and hopping between its branches are a flurry of grey feathers. They are a monotone of moody clouds, with flashes of white on their tails and a speck of red in their eyes. I could fit all three of them in the palm of my hand they are so small.”