The summit of Mount Tarawera still carries the scars of the dramatic eruption of 10 June 1886. In just a few hours, a series of explosions ripped open the mountain, creating a 17-kilometer-long rift that extended south towards Waimangu. Ash, rock and volcanic debris were thrown high into the atmosphere, dramatically reshaping the surrounding landscape.
Several Māori settlements were destroyed or buried, and more than 100 people lost their lives, making it the deadliest volcanic eruption in New Zealand's recorded history. The famous Pink and White Terraces at nearby Lake Rotomahana, then considered one of New Zealand's great natural wonders, also disappeared.
Today, the deep fissures and exposed layers of red, grey, and black volcanic rock across the summit powerfully remind visitors of what happened here in 1886.

A visitor stops for a selfie amid the steam of Rotorua's geothermal landscape. Beneath the surface, volcanic heat warms underground water, sending steam through cracks and vents in the ground. Geothermal activity defines the Rotorua region, and so does the strong smell of sulfur, which is hard to miss when walking through the area.

You don’t have to be a Tolkien fan to enjoy a visit to the Shire.

The first photograph is my own interpretation of Hobbiton — in black and white, concentrating more on atmosphere, shapes and light than on the familiar colors of the place.

The other four images give a broader impression of the Shire, with its Hobbit holes, gardens and rolling green hills.
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Originally created for The Lord of the Rings films, Hobbiton was later rebuilt as a permanent set for The Hobbit trilogy. Today, it is one of New Zealand’s best-known visitor attractions — and a fascinating place to photograph.

A motorcyclist crosses the Auckland Harbor Bridge with the city skyline and Sky Tower in the background. Shot through the window of our moving car, the moment brought together the rider, the busy marina, and the city beyond — a passing glimpse of Auckland.
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A cyclist crosses the street in the late afternoon light in central Auckland. With the surrounding buildings already in deep shadow, the low sun briefly catches the cyclist, casting a long shadow across the road.

A woman walks through the late afternoon light in central Auckland. The low sun turns the building façade into a pattern of light and shadow, while her own shadow briefly becomes part of the scene.

Looking straight up between Parkview Square and the much newer DUO development in Singapore's Bugis district. Art Deco on one side, curves and honeycomb patterns on the other—two very different buildings, brought together by simply pointing the camera straight up.

A woman shelters from Singapore's midday sun, with Marina Bay Sands and the ArtScience Museum across the water behind her. Both were designed by architect Moshe Safdie and have become symbols of modern Singapore.
Opened in 2010, Marina Bay Sands has three hotel towers connected by the Sands SkyPark, 57 stories above the city, including its famous 150-meter infinity pool. But it is much more than a hotel, with restaurants, shops, convention facilities, entertainment and a large casino.
Casinos were controversial in Singapore, so when they were finally allowed, the government introduced measures to discourage locals from gambling. Singapore citizens and permanent residents currently have to pay S$150 just to enter for 24 hours, while foreign visitors enter without this levy.
On the left is Safdie's ArtScience Museum, shaped a little like an open lotus flower. 
Together, the two buildings have transformed the waterfront and created one of Singapore's most recognizable views.

A cyclist passes while two people stop beneath the Esplanade, with Marina Bay Sands rising in the distance. The concrete structure frames one of Singapore's best-known landmarks, while the people and cyclist add a touch of everyday life to the picture.
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