My pre-dawn pilgrimage to Kananaskis Country was just starting to wind down recently when I saw something very interesting out of the corner of my eye (alright, I know eyes don’t have corners, but you know what I mean). I slammed on the brakes, cruising to a gentle, tire-loving stop over approximately 500 yards, and moved over to the shoulder. I banged it into reverse and – dust flying – reversed gently and carefully along the highway so I could see this:
I got out of the car and immediately recognized an opportunity for some close-up work. From the front seat I grabbed my camera bag and camera. I skipped gaily down the slope off the side of the road, then, singing sweetly in the mountain air (LALALALALALA) I hauled out my trustee Nikon D70 and started hunting for angles.
Now, angles are tricky little buggers – especially for close-up work – I mean, just when you think you’ve got one, he goes and scampers away. But I persevered, and eventually I found some promising little fellows at the north end of this mountain puddle.
I introduced myself. Some loitered, some wallowed, some spat, but they all agreed to work with me provided I didn’t hurt them. So I turned on my camera and waited for them to show themselves, then I started snapping.
The shoot was a success. Some of them fought like the dickens, of course, but I was gentle, and because I believe in catch-and-release they are all still out there, waiting for their next chance to shine in the early morning Sun.
Anyway, all men-in-white-coatedness aside, I am quite pleased with how these little moments turned out. This pond-born algae made a fascinating subject as the low-angle sunlight played with the colours, and refracted through the thin shore-ice. I used the macro setting to get close in. A wide angle lens and a macro lens are on my Christmas wish list, but I think I did alright with the main unit.
I hope you agree.
This was taken along the road in southern Ontario, near the small town of Delhi, south of St. Thomas. We were at speed and I was a little restless, so I decided to see what my camera and I could get with minimal effort. So, I put it on ‘high-speed’ (the little athlete, running), opened the car window (to the extreme consternation of everyone else in the vehicle), and started snapping photos.
When I got home I checked what I had and my eye caught this little snap: a mountain of wrecked automobiles that suddenly appeared in the middle of a beautiful, scenic area of perfectly-tilled arable land. This, I thought, truly is a testament to man’s activities and how they affect our environment. That this detritus should exist at all in this recycling age, let alone in amongst all the beauty of that area, is the ultimate acknowledgment of the results of our innocent daily activities.
I found this pile of scrap almost surreally out of place with the general area. After a few more moments, however, it made a little more sense, for up the road there were several miles of orange, hand-painted signs that said “NO MORE TORONTO GARBAGE!”
Clearly, my camera and I had stumbled on a significant local controversy.
I was standing by the ocean – the big blue one on the left – when I looked down at my feet and saw some stones.
“What the hell,” I said, and “what the hell,” I replied.
I bent down and picked one up – a stone about yay big with a well-rounded perstoneality.
I got the camera ready and lobbed the little rock way up high in the air, pausing for a pregnant moment to contemplate how many years and how many tides, and how many storms it had taken for the poor little bugger to make it to the beach in the first place and irrationally wondering if it would be mad at me for putting it back in the water.
Just as the rock came down I pressed the shutter and started clicking, and this is one of the results. This moment, frozen in time, is when the rock made it back to the ocean for the first time in perhaps twenty or thirty years. I had the telephoto zoom lens on the Nikon at the time. I like how clear the picture is, and how everything is just frozen there, locked in space and time.
I hope you enjoy.