(I was sorely tempted to put in a self-portrait here but The Spouse advised against it. The one already, she says, is quite enough for most mortals.)
I’VE JUST BEEN TO A LOCAL COW TOWN
and thence for a stroll during which I got these images; relics of days now departed—days when values were different.
Yes — it’s a map of the world. Actually a 3D map, made with great loving care decades ago in the grounds of a local school for the edification of tiny tots. Once upon a time it would have been kept clean and filled to periscope depth with water, but these days I think that as such it would be classed as a ‘swimming pool’ by the local busy-beaks; the school would have to fence it off to prevent the kiddies falling in and drowning. Aaah, the innocence of ages past …
—and here is a physical manifestation of the word ‘redundancy’. Or is it? More to the point: what is it (other than a relic)?
‘Tis what we call a ‘trig marker‘. Very handy in the days before satellites and GPS; clever chaps with theodolites and long tapes and stuff could work out a position anywhere in New Zealand with pin-point accuracy. The whole country was covered with these things (and their offsprings the Datum Pegs). I have no idea whether these barbarous relics are still maintained or not—I think it would be a very good idea to keep them up: wottif? As in wottif a solar flare or nuclear war were to sizzle the satellites and in one fell stroke eliminate the GPS (and thereby US cruise missiles—a very good inducement for some anti-social type to do so) systems? Oops—back to theodolites and clever folks with mathematics …
Actually quite a few relics in this shot. In recent years Southland has gone from being sheep country to cattle country and scores of sheep farms are now cow ranches. This one is (I think) in the process of conversion—that stump in centre is surrounded by many other stumps and huge piles of deceased macrocarpa trees. I pity, they were beautiful fully mature trees. The wee shed has seen better days and to the right of it is a relic from when it was cheaper and more convenient to grow your own eggies. And the proud erection on the right is of course a relic of an obsolete shearing shed; the upstanding member being lowered to funnel wee fluffy beasties into trucks and things.
Below, a relic of the present future from the past—
—a fence left over from sheepie times. Note today’s disconsolate cow beasts, patiently awaiting their day’s rations (it’s winter here). The electric fence just beyond them will be moved a few yards/metres/things further and they’ll have access to several rows of fresh swedes (rutabagas).
Dammit … I still think a photo of me would qualify …