The Greatest Gift

I spent this Christmas at work: in camp in the north, far from my blood family in the east, and my American family in the south. It was strange and lonely, but I was not forgotten. 

I had received my Christmas jammies in the mail the day before my rotation began, and true to my instructions, opened and wore them on Christmas Eve.
I am beyond grateful to be included in this wonderful family's thoughts and traditions.

But the greatest gift I got this year?

Four simple words that I had not seen together in 35 years.

 

The Cost of Fame

 I found this little guy nestled in the branches of a fir tree.

"You're gonna be on the internet," I said to him, so he turned his little head and gave me his best angle.

When I spotted him next, he was somewhat less enthused. "No more!" he said to me, but I snapped the shot anyway.

"I said NO MORE!"

*click* *click*

And then this: quite possibly the most telling expression I've ever seen on a wild animal, and easily the most telling one I've ever had the luck to capture on camera.

Here it is, little bird. Your privacy has been invaded by the internet, and you couldn't even smile for the camera!

Pixie Dust

 November 6 brought a decent cover of snow to southern Alberta. It was that beautiful hoarfrost sparkly snow that perched on every tip of every branch of every tree and just stayed where it landed: dry enough to balance on the very edge of the coloured leaves still clinging to their hosts in peaceful protest of the onset of winter.

Every edge was covered. It was absolutely magical.

A bit of serendipitous patriotism...

...and roses snuggled under a full white blanket for a few months' sleep.

I've never seen snow like this outside of Alberta. It's so powdery and sparkly: like walking through my own private snow globe, but instead of glass overhead, I'm under cover of a massive dome of blue prairie sky.

Pixie dust.

Winter in November... as it should be.

Northern Flicker

Birds are fast and unpredictable, which makes them tricky to shoot. This little guy was hanging out in my backyard one day, and held still long enough for me to capture this:

He's a Northern Flicker, and this is what allaboutbirds.org has to say about him:

Northern Flickers are large, brown woodpeckers with a gentle expression and handsome black-scalloped plumage. On walks, don’t be surprised if you scare one up from the ground. It’s not where you’d expect to find a woodpecker, but flickers eat mainly ants and beetles, digging for them with their unusual, slightly curved bill. When they fly you’ll see a flash of color in the wings – yellow if you’re in the East, red if you’re in the West – and a bright white flash on the rump.

Inky, Blinky, Pinky, and Clyde

Back in July, I joined a friend on a storm chasing mission around the Calgary area. I only got one good shot that day, but I also found another kind of chase happening: silos painted in the likeness of Mrs. Pacman and all four of her nemeses. I made a note of their location, and in October was able to return to the area just southwest of the city with my camera for a shoot with Inky, Blinky, Pinky, Clyde, and the missus.

The paint on the silos was much more weather worn than I remembered. Maybe I had just been too far away, or maybe the 3 months of southern Alberta weather had taken their toll. So, while I enjoy the charm of the worn look...

...I also spent far too much time and effort in the post-processing repaint not to post it here.

There is so much fun in finding gems like this. Often, the things you're not looking for make the very best finds, well worth a return visit!

All About Autumn at Abraham Lake

Where I currently live, Autumn is not much of a thing. The river valley in Edmonton puts on a heck of a show, but for the most part, the trees are coniferous, or they transform within days from leafy green to golden yellow and then shed. I happened to be enjoying a few days off in the autumn of 2019, though, when I heard talk on the radio of the brilliance of the colours at Abraham Lake.

With the lake being one of my favourite go-to places in the mountains, a day trip to see for myself was a must. Besides, I already had photos from Summer and from Winter, what better to add to the collection.

I. Was. Not. Expecting. THIS.

     

It was like something straight out of a fantasy movie set. Golden yellow and brilliant red trees grew right up out of glacial melt that varied in colour from deep ocean blue to bright turquoise depending on the position of the sun.

And speaking of the sun, it was out and huge in all it's bright, shiny glory.

At a second stop near the Cline River, the trees sprouted seemingly from solid rock, without giving a second though to the 18 inches of water carpeting their trunk.

Another stop at Windy Point.

And a bit of recognition for another Grade AAAlberta experience.

Best Friends

If a dog is a man's best friend, who is a dog's best friend?

I decided to take my camera on a trip to the dog park and see if I could find help in answering that question.

Apollo was game to assist.

"THERE!" said Apollo. "There is my best friend!"

But at the end of the day, when all was said and done, a dog might be man's best friend, but this dog's best friend  

was a woman.

Take Me To Church

It was somewhere in early summer when I saw that Eric Church would be coming to Calgary in September. It was a long way off. And A LOT of money to spend going into the slow season at work.

But it was Eric Church.

And it was WORTH IT!

A Post About Nothing

"Why Manitoba?" they would ask whenever I tried to find someone to take a road trip with me. "There's nothing in Manitoba." It's just.... flat.

"I need to take pictures," I'd tell them. "I want pictures from every province, and somehow the only one I am missing is the one in the middle."

"But there's nothing to take pictures of!" they'd warn.

"I'll find something," I assured them.

And on my journey across the country in early September, I did. Right off the highway, too.

Welcome to Holland, Manitoba

... and another check off my bucket list. So much ado about nothing.