Carelessly obscuring the universe

Queenstown, by day, is breathtaking. From the first golden light spilling over the Remarkables to the deep blue embrace of Lake Wakatipu, this place is a masterpiece. Everywhere, nature’s hand has crafted something extraordinary. Visitors come in their thousands, drawn by a beauty so profound it feels almost sacred.

And yet, as the sun sets and the last whispers of twilight fade, a different Queenstown emerges. Not a city of wonder, but a city of waste. The stars — once navigation beacons for Polynesian voyagers — vanish behind an ugly dome of artificial glare. Streetlights, shopfronts, and gaudy floodlights drown out the heavens, reducing the sky to a dull, formless glow.

This is a theft, silent and insidious, robbing us of something as precious as the lake and mountains we so readily protect.

To make this point, while staying in Queenstown this week, I took two photographs. The first, taken at noon, captures Queenstown in all its glory: crisp, clear, and stunning. The second, shot at night when trying to see an aurora, reveals the damage. A harsh orange haze blots out the stars, smothering the Milky Way in a fog of wasted light. We must do better, darkness is not the enemy.

Smart, directed lighting shields the sky while illuminating streets and pathways. Thoughtful regulations can balance security with wonder.

Across the world, places once plagued by light pollution are reclaiming their stars. Why not Queenstown?

Imagine a future where holidaymakers delight in gondola rides, mountain trails, and pristine nocturnal skies. Where families gaze up at a Milky Way so luminous it leaves them breathless.

Where Queenstown, famed for its daytime majesty, becomes renowned for its celestial grandeur.

The sky is not an inconvenience. It is a gift. We must protect the night just as we treasure our lakes and peaks.