Wandering Daisy…

I spend a lot of time camping and hiking in the back country. Along my travels through meadows and along trails, I have had the pleasure of being accompanied by this little gem. It is one of the most beautiful flowers to grace the landscape and keeps you company along the way. At night, it closes it’s petals tightly and some believe it’s to keep it’s attractant chemicals from being released while there are no pollinators buzzing about. Beats me. In my mind, it is one flower that I will always look for while enjoying the mountains…

Wandering Daisy

Fog…

I’ve always had a fascination with fog ever since I was but a wee lad. October, where I live, seems to see the most, but I’m not sure if thats simply my memory as Halloween approaches. I love the way the street lights play within it and take on a presence that they don’t normally have. But this day, it was thick and mysterious. Driving in and out of pockets I searched for a place where I could explore. Play with it’s depth. I knew I didn’t have much time. The other wonderful aspect was the addition of frost which coated everything in fine white crystals that looked like beautiful decorations in a very gray landscape.

From a photographers point of view, it’s a great opportunity to look at the local contrast of a subject in very flat light. This tree was one of the first images I took. It had a wonderful shape and had nothing behind it to distract from the wonderfully simple yet very complex subject. The only thing I’m still debating is whether to simplify it by taking the foreground snow out to leave the tree isolated.

The second image is at a frozen marsh within the city limits near an industrial area. I love the simple tones and the textures that it contains with the two whimsical trees that sit on the horizon. To the far left, out of frame was a scrap metal yard.

As is normal with fog, it’s unpredictability was very predictable. it was gone within 10 minutes of me taking the last image.

Foggy Tree Sugar Maker

Foggy Pond Sugar Maker

Walking on Water…

“Snowshoes on, we walk over hard pack till we feel the blanket thicken and soften, as we wade, through the cold surf, where nature laps against the open space, our feet sinking, till we walk on water”

Snow Shoe

The car stopped, engine off, we climb from heated leather seats into the cool mountain air. A sense of peace, and the anticipation of adventure, are held softly by the white silence.

Snow crunches underfoot as we prepare, toque and gloves warm. Scanning the edges of the flat man made island in a sea of trees dressed in winters coat, like icing sugar, light on the pastry we enjoyed for breakfast, but much sweeter.

Snowshoes on, we walk over hard pack till we feel the blanket thicken and soften, as we wade, through the cold surf, where nature laps against the open space, our feet sinking, till we walk on water. This place, this place, holds my heart gently, brushing up against the sides of my soul and for a moment, blend. This place, this nature, this one, seem to step away and have a conversation like dear friends with too much time between them.

A walk through white woods never travelled, but deeply familiar, of belonging, of knowing, seeing a small glimpse into the mystery, but somehow, without effort, deeply understood.