Rolling Great Lake Winter Clouds

Photography

Under the right conditions, cloud will sit over Lake Ontario in the winter.

These were the last of them for 2017, blue and brooding settling in a pink sky.

Shot at dusk Dec 31 2017.

The Dying Light of the Old Year

Photography

The last light of 2017.  Incredible light.

The latter half of 2017 was personally tough. It kind of culminated into a difficult tangle of emotion by December, enhanced perhaps by the lack of light and the Canadian winter. Things seems more desperate and hopeless than they had to be at times. Unnecessarily so.  I was going through the motions.

But has often happened to me in the winter, the act of shooting moves me away from the day to day struggle. I was positively giddy when I shot this.  The sun was setting in the other direction which was what I was actually planning on shooting and missed.  I saw this and had to stop.  This is the one, this is the one! I realized a little later, this was the first time I had been purely happy in a long while, where the other stuff didn’t matter.

Whether it is the ”one” or not is immaterial. These are experiences when we get connected to the universe, to a higher purpose.  Or if not that grand, at least to the magic of life and experience.

This is why I shoot. This is why I spent money I don’t have on my camera.

My sails got righted that night….  We have plenty of dark and cold to come in the next few months. There is more struggle.  But the days are getting longer now.

Happy New Year!

The Burbs Tumultuous Skies

Digital Art, Photography

The careful geometric shapes of the suburbs contrasted with the wildness of the skies. The suburbs try to subdue nature with its carefully tended to lawns, sculpted gardens and paved driveways. But nature will not be tamed.

You are okay if you don’t look up.

Suburban Drama

Photography

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I have a thing for wide-angle lens and brooding skies. I often look up at the sky and watch the clouds and light. I remember two instances in particular that I caught on my iPhone.

One was when the skies became very dark. You know the kind. When the day light takes on a strange greenish cast of foreboding.  I stood out in the middle of my suburban street, and a hole of light opened up right over top of where I was standing in the center of the threatening skies. No one else was around. I stood there looking up in wonder as the gods, or aliens, or the mysterious miracle of the universe itself had decided to open up just for me. And I stood there in wonder under the light, in a kind of giddiness, wishing I could share the miracle of it with someone.

The other time was the morning after Halloween. We tend to go all out on Halloween with sound effects or music, stuffed bodies, sometimes film, and the smoke machine back-lit with blue light. We put out a bowl of candy with a sign on it that says, “Take two, we are watching!” There’s a piece of masonite that leans on the tree by the street with a big eye on it. More recently we have ghost heads hanging from a line floating the breeze. Sometimes parents need to talk their small child into approaching the house.

Then he and I go out with a mug full of something or other unnaturally warming, me dressed up in something I couldn’t get a way with ordinarily, and him in his ordinary self keeping an arm out to steady me in my heels and we go for a walk, sometimes with children running from house to house, and sometimes just us pretending that our children are somewhere near by. It’s been on two Halloween’s, I kid you not, that I have dropped and smashed my iPhone. Something about it seems especially slippery like a bar of soap on Halloween, out it goes in an arc to its collision to the ground.

One year one of my kids made an especially bloody mess of the pumpkin complete with a knife and some kind of red syrupy stuff, both humorous and somewhat alarming at the same time.

November 1st is All Saints Day. It was a morning after Halloween in that early November day was unnaturally warm and windy and the skies were dramatic with light and dark and movement as if to create an effect of blowing out the evils from the night before over the roof of my house.  The skies, a vehicle, an instrument of the universe, might have messages for us.