My first digital SLR was an Olympus E1. That was a beautiful camera. Fairly small and light, incredibly durable. It was old already when I got it, but the completely weathersealed system and amazing lenses lured me in. And it let me get shots like this. I couldn’t do this with my 5D. This is from a 10 hour hike through rain, drizzle, and clouds in the cloud forests of Dominica. There was an inch of water in the bottom of my camera bag. Everything was completely soaked. But I could trust this camera to just keep going.
Category: Photo of the Day
Contrasting Colors and Texture
I’m thinking of trying to post a photo (almost) every day here. Apologies to the facebook people I’m spamming with this. Hopefully a significant number of you will enjoy it.
I decided to look back through some of my old stuff today, which is always interesting. I’m happy to report that the percentage of my photos I actually like has gone up over the years. This is one of the first photos I took on a digital camera – it’s from my old Canon A60 point and shoot. Taken in Crowsnest Pass, AB.
Ice Crystals
Dinosaurs
The Wabamun power plant was built in 1956 as a state of the art coal burning generating station. In 2002, Transalta began shutting it down, with the last burner ceasing operation in March 2010. It is now being demolished, which is a huge undertaking. Most of the materials are being recycled. I got the opportunity to take photos while it was still in the early stages of demolition. It was spectacular in a mad scientist / industrial revolution kind of way. The mass of tubes, wires, and pipes running every which way, combined with all the dials, meters, and switches was crazy. How anyone could make sense of it all is beyond me. On the other hand, there are no black boxes. No computers that you could just replace. If anything was broken, you could just follow the wire or pipe back to the failure point.
Anyway, behold 1950s engineering in all it’s glory.
Limited Light
It’s one of those fall days where you look outside and shudder. Winter’s coming. It’s dark, grey, and just below freezing in the middle of the day. It’s not the kind of day that inspires one to get outside, but once I feel the crisp bite of cold air on my face and hear the silence magnified by the foggy air, I am reminded that almost any conditions can be magical if you embrace them.
All photos taken in Elk Island National Park.
Glacier Hunting
A couple of weeks ago, Anna and I went out to the mountains for a quick getaway. I’d read up on some good hikes, and I wanted to take Anna on a beautiful hike that I’d been on quite a few years ago. We drove out to Jasper and down the Icefields Parkway to the Columbia Icefield. Just past the Centre is the Wilcox Creek Campground, where we stayed that night. We did our first hike up to Wilcox Pass. This is an amazing area, although I think it would be prettier in summer or early fall. By going this late in the year we did avoid most of the tourists—you win some, you lose some.
From the trail you have a great view of the Athabasca Glacier. You can also see glimpses of the Columbia Icefield as it flows over the mountains. Looking down on the icefield from a distance, you can see many colors and textures. I wanted to know what these textures would turn into as you moved closer. So the next day I decided to go to the foot of the glacier and see what I could see. I did the little walk from the parking area up the hill and what did I see? A big roped-off area more than a 100m away from the glacier. I considered my options. I could cross the rope and disobey the signs (like I saw one couple do), reinforcing to the 30 others tourists that they could ignore the park wardens as well. Or I could pay for us to go on the official walk/ride. Or I could try another glacier. I know there are many other glaciers in the parks that I can go see. They all take a bit more effort, but they also offer a lot more solitude.
(We went up Parker Ridge—the hike I had done a few years ago—that afternoon, and you get a beautiful view of the Saskatchewan Glacier and more of the Icefield from there as well).
Upon arriving home, I started researching. There are a lot of accessible glaciers, it turns out. The one that looked most interesting to me was the Saskatchewan Glacier, which we had seen from Parker Ridge. I figured out the route (it’s not really an official trail, although it is travelled quite often) and set off the next weekend to see a glacier. I started fairly early in the morning, hiked up the hill through thick forest, and then crossed the long stretch up the glacial plain. This is the hard part —you’re not gaining any altitude, but there are loose scattered stones of every size, no trail, and you have to be careful where you step. The many moraines (ridges of glacial debris) mean a lot of hiking up a few feet to hike down a few feet. And it’s an 18km hike.
Eventually you get to the glacier. It’s spectacular. There is the roar of rushing water from the melting glacier. There are towers of ice stretching high above you. Cold winds blow off the glacier, which made me glad for my winter attire. There are stretches of fine rock dust and cement-like mud that got into everything. I should also mention right now—BE VERY CAREFUL IF YOU GET CLOSE TO A GLACIER—people die on glaciers, mostly falling into crevasses and millwells. Falling chunks of ice and dislodged boulders are another frequent hazard.
I did not go up on the glacier, even though I had crampons along, because I haven’t done much mountaineering. I did step in quicksand close to the glacier and almost lost a boot. And I got to see some pretty cool stuff. Some day I want to go up on a glacier with an experienced guide to see more and to learn how to safely traverse glaciers. But for now I’m happy to have seen this one up close and personal.
Finding Peaceful Spots
People seem a little out of place in the forest. We make trails to have a place that is not quite so wild and easier to navigate. We rush to complete a loop, or reach a destination. I find it very different to pick my way through an unknown forest to no particular destination. You can go 10 feet or 10 miles, there’s not much difference. There’s variety on every scale, from the moss to the trees to the elevation of the land. It’s always a little jarring to run into other people when I’m in this environment.
One of the benefits of doing craft sales is that I get to talk with people who enjoy similar activities. At Kaleido, I talked with a lady who pointed me to a couple new spots that I haven’t been to before. They’re out of the way, not many people know about them, and of course they are beautiful. I like sharing places I discover, because I think we’re better off when we’re more aware of and connected to nature. But when other people confide in me with their favorite spots, I feel it’s not my place to let the world know – I’ll let them do that. I went to one of these places a few days ago, and these photos are the result.
A Breath of Fresh Air
Lately there’s been a lot of filling out forms, delivering prints, setting up and taking down displays, and just way too much business stuff in general. I was starting to get tired of it all and questioning this whole photography thing. Then on Wednesday I got the chance to take the day and drive out to Cadomin. Spending the day alone in a beautiful and fascinating place, for me, cures a multitude of ills. This is what I signed up for, and what I love.
This coyote was fun to watch. I first saw him tearing around throwing something in the air and snapping at it. I assumed he’d caught some supper, but it turned out to be a scrap of paper he was playing with. In the middle of his racing around, he stopped for a few seconds, looked at me, smelled the bush next to him, and then took off as fast as he could go. My favorite capture was this one – a peaceful moment in the middle of an energetic playtime.
Up in the Air
Being suspended above the ground is a strange experience. It’s even stranger when two thin pieces of metal are all that’s holding you there. I got to fly a plane for the first time this last week. I’ve flown in passenger jets before, but having control of a little tin can of a plane is very odd.
A friend from Vancouver flew into town last week right in front of all the forest fire smoke. He has his own little Cessna 150 which was built in the ’60s. It’s a tiny little two seater – the smallest plane Cessna makes. We took a little trip out to Cooking Lake and tried some stalls and spins over the lake (which were pretty scary), and of course I took a few photos (which was pretty fun).
These first two are of Cooking Lake from the air (or maybe more accurately – Cooking Mud Flats).
We filled in gas in Cooking Lake.
It was pretty smoky around Edmonton from the forest fires in BC.
Getting Lucky
“You got lucky and have a couple good photos. I imagine everyone has a few great pictures on their computer.” These were the words spoken to me today by a “photographer” who saw me selling prints at Folk Fest. It was interesting to hear, and I agreed with him. After all, it is true that many people have a few great photos; it is also true that I occasionally get lucky while taking photos. But I think he was implying that photographers (maybe nature photographers specifically) don’t have control over the quality of their photos. And that is completely false.
I don’t control the weather, the sun, the way the trees grow, or the layout of the mountains. This is the challenge of nature photography – adapting to the environment, finding strong compositions, waiting for or creating the right light. It’s about working with what is there to create a mood, a story, a little world within a frame. This takes a great deal of practice and skill, along with some experimenting. But there’s always a little luck involved.
These are from the Moss Lake trail in Elk Island National Park last night between 10 and midnight. It was overcast and a new moon so – pretty dark. (For what it’s worth, I was trying to create my own luck and time my visit right to catch the perseid meteor shower. As it turns out I had to work with an overcast sky, so I got these instead)