That Wanaka Tree

When it comes to trees, none hold the clout of that Wanaka tree. This single tree is the most visited and photographed tree in all New Zealand and possibly the world. Over one hundred years ago in the early 1900s, a farmer took a large branch off a lakeside willow to create a fence post for his farm. Now, The fence has disappeared, the farmland no more, but that single remaining fence post still stands out in Roy’s Bay. According to a few locals, the tree was a homegrown tourist attraction, and was just a piece of the beautiful panorama from the shores of Wanaka Lake. The tree became “that” Wanaka tree in the late 2000s as the beginning of the social media craze began. Today #thatwanakatree has fifty-one thousand tags on Instagram with plenty of other hashtags associated with the tree. One of those hashtags is “that Wanaka wedding” which is dedicated to the hundreds of people who had tied the knot on the shores around the renowned tree. Even in my experience, its quite bizarre to watch a destination wedding happen while people just metres away are taking a selfie with the tree as their backdrop. All that media attention leads to what people don’t see in the pictures of the Wanaka tree; a shoreline littered with people. The beach was covered in people from all parts of the world, each with their own reason for going to this tree. Dozens of cameras are accurately aimed, hundreds of people posing, and even more just look out at the wild willow bonsai, growing from its watery vessel in front of the Southern Alps. The chaos and commotion around this tree in the daytime can be off putting for someone trying to enjoy the serenity of the scene.

During the night under a full moon I took off to the shores of Lake Wanaka. The full moon and the streetlights of a sleeping town casted a yellow glow that dimly lit the beach. I wandered down to the sound small waves hitting the pebbly beach, and the crunch of soft stones under my weather sandals. I got to the Wanaka tree and being alone with the tree introduced me to the magic of this place. The moon lit mountains filled the horizon and met with the blue sky of stars. The lake glistened and refracted the moonlight as the soft waves rolled the smooth beach pebbles onto each other in a rhythmic fashion. As I took pictures and moved around the beach a few other people wandered down the dim lit beach to come view the magic of the famed tree. I couldn’t believe the beautiful images I was capturing, even their two-inch preview on my camera were breathtaking. The moon got higher in the dark sky and I had to move on from the small enclosed piece of perfection.

The next morning, I woke up renewed and inspired from last nights shooting and I walked into Wanaka. I found a café called Kia Whakapai and sat down in a quiet corner. As I waited for my food and sipped on my Flat white I began to remove the pictures of the Wanaka tree from my memory card to laptop. I grabbed my files and was dragging them across the screen. My mouse was dragging one of the greatest photos I had taken. I was so excited to see that translucent copy of the image being carried to a folder to back up and protect its existence. I could already imagine the reactions from this image, full of praise and admiration at the scene I had so perfectly captured. That is when everything changed.

Before my cursor crossed over to drop the images into its destination the screen went black. My screen and face both sat their blank. The process began of moving the mouse with no reaction, to using the power button with no prevail to finally an anxiety induced, frantic freak out. I took the memory card out of my laptop and placed it in my camera. It was empty. The photos were somewhere, and I had no idea where.

I quickly took to the streets, searching for anywhere and anyone who could explain what happened. I found an electronic repair store and walked in, surprising the quiet office. For hours I paced around the downtown core of Wanaka, waiting for a call about my laptop. Knowing that I may never be able to see that picture again, knowing that I could never share that image, knowing that I may have lost all my images on my laptop kept me on edge all day. The hours passed, and I began to prepare myself for the worst. Finally, I got the call I was dreading all afternoon. I walked down to the office again and the technician explained to me that my motherboard had crashed. My options were few and far between and my hopes were destroyed. The technician passed me an external hard drive and told me that all documents and could be saved were put on the drive. I now held a terabyte external hard drive full of years worth of documents, with no way of seeing what was salvaged from the wreckage. For a month and a half, I lived with Schrodinger’s external hard drive, stuck between the possibilities and what ifs. The trip continued, and I was just forced to hold on for hope.

Slowly the laptop woke from its slumber. I was finally going to learn to hard truth. The first image or document I searched for was my pictures taken on February 20th 2019. My picture of the Wanaka tree now graces my phone lock screen, tonnes of social media posts, and even printed and hanging in art galleries and homes. The blue night sky, the glassy complexion of the lake surrounding the green leafed willow and the sharp edges of the southern alps will always take me back across the world.