Archive for the 'photography' Category

04
Oct
13

Howe Sound Sea to Sky and Vancouver slideshow

After a solid week of rain, the clearing skies reveal the season’s first snowfalls on the surrounding peaks.

It’s easy to forget all that wet when what comes after looks like this:

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I must have driven that highway more than a thousand times over the years, seldom stopping to take in the scenery.  Took it for granted it would always be there.  But it changes all the time with the light and season, and in what’s amounting to a pre-retirement trial run, these days I’m not in much of a hurry.  So I did two things nobody else seems to do on that highway: drove the speed limit, and turned off to look around at every viewpoint.

A bit of a dangerous move nonetheless.  Standing on the new dock at Porteau I had this stab of regret at having left all this beauty behind one day so long ago.

One photo I could not get because there was no place to pull over I’ll just have to describe.  Locals will know what I’m talking about.

Driving south of Windy Point just after the new cut before you go over Deeks Creek you could see a long bank of cloud to the south hovering over the ridge above Horseshoe Bay.

Although the entire east side of the Sound was in still in dark shadow, that cloud bank was acting like a giant light disperser, diffusing the bright sunlight from behind the ridge to bathe that part beneath it on the eastern side in clear, white light.  Trees and ridges popped into view out of the shadow, the shoreline a strange orange glow.  Come to think of it, I don’t think my camera would have captured it.

10
Feb
12

Paris views old and new

What I mean is: a couple on this short slideshow everyone has seen, others not.

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05
Dec
11

One day I’ll see inside the Yorkshire Air Museum

My whole reason for being in York one year ago was to go to the Yorkshire Air Museum to see the Canadian section and look up any information in their archives about my uncle Vince.  

But as I walked back to the hotel after a glorious first afternoon out in the snow, I started to realise that after waiting a decade or so to even make the trip and travelling half the length of the country just to get there, I was probably going to make it to the front door, but no further.  It wasn’t exactly high tourist season already – part of the reason I’d chosen to go in winter in the first place – but with the city looking much like an ol’ Mother Hubbard gingerbread house, I called the museum to make sure they were open.

I got an answering machine and the usual message about opening and closing times, but nothing more.

Not good.

What the hell, I thought, might as well give it a try and if nothing else at least I’ve seen the place.  So the next morning I headed back over a bridge into town for the stop for the half-hour bus ride out to the museum’s airport hangars.

The bus driver was pretty clear about what he thought of my idea of going to the museum.

“Yoo’ be’er looook i’ u’ I do’ owt ump rfhu toda'” he said, pointing to the sky.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I said.  “But I have to go out there to see it anyway.”

Seeing as how the bus route had been changed on account of the snow, the bus driver didn’t charge me for the trip out, which I found quite friendly.  He and I – there was nobody else – quickly passed through the outskirts of York to arrive at the corner where he’d drop me off.  Normally I’d have taken another bus directly to the museum, but it wasn’t running.  Did I need any other clues the museum would be closed?

Since the sidewalk was covered in snowbank, I walked about a mile and a half at the side of the road to finally arrive at the museum entrance.   Deserted.  Already I could see planes – a massive bomber covered in snow was pretty hard to miss – but there wasn’t a soul around.

Placing my boots in a couple of tire tracks I crunched through the empty parking lot and  looked around to find a few planes, a hangar or two, and acres and acres of white.

But around a corner and across a small field I came across what must be the Canadian section.   The plane with two maple leaf flags is probably a Canadian-built Avro, but if you know it’s not, please tell me.  Of course I couldn’t go inside the building, so was left to contemplate from a respectful distance the course of history and my family’s small part in it.

Near the plane is a modest plaque of the Canadian Memorial Hangar:

Per ardua ad astra – Through struggle to the stars: the motto of the Royal Air Force but also others including the RCAF.

Despite the blinding morning sun I was by now freezing cold, so turning in my tracks I headed back for the trudge along the road whence I came to catch the bus back to York, telling myself I’d be back one day.

22
Dec
09

A rare Hamburg snowfall

We don’t get much snow around here, and when we do, it usually doesn’t stay for very long.  So when I had to go out this morning to do a bit of last-minute Christmas shopping, I brought along my camera to try to capture a bit of it.

14
Jun
09

Boy hitting the bricks

Hamburg hafen harbour boy blue bricks

Sometimes it’s only after you get home that you notice the shot.  Just setting up a long telephoto down some stairs, framing the photo when suddenly this kid pops into view.

Click.

I like how his clothes match the railing and the bricks, how he’s caught startled by something and whirling around, and how the lens seems to place him on an impossibly uphill slope.

Maybe it’s better in black and white?

hamburg pier boy stairs bricks black and white

I don’t know.  What do you think?

20
Apr
09

Blue Monday

Blue-sky Monday, that is.

garden-planters-pots-blue-shades-pottery

Blue’s my colour.  How can you tell?

garden-planters-blue-pottery-pots-plants

With just a touch of green…

garden-planters-pottery-gardening-close-up

I’m sure my mother would love the turquoise hues in that one.

If she actually read this blog.

22
Mar
09

Hamburg hinterland who’s who: the birds

The Hamburg Tree-sitting Eagle-Eyed Hawk-Nosed Falcon Bird of Prey:

hamburg-hawk-buzzard-bird-of-prey-elbe

The Hamburg Parkside Focus-Challenged Great Squawking Pheasant:

pheasant-jenisch-park-hamburg

Hamburg Yellow-beaked Balcony-Crapping Blackbird

hamburg-yellow-beaked-balcony-blackbird

Please note that I haven’t the slightest clue what kind of birds these are.  Hell, I can’t even differentiate between a cat and a dog or tell whether a woman is wearing a swimsuit or not.  But the blackbird sings beautifully,  and I’m looking forward to spotting a pheasant in Jenisch park once it warms up.  Enjoy. 🙂




The banner photograph shows the town of Britannia Beach, BC, Canada, where I grew up. It's home. But I don't live there anymore.

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