Let the season begin

The Aylmer Marina is still looking somewhat forlorn. But with evenings that are warm enough for an after-work stroll with the family, and skies like these, it won't be long before the docks are out and the basin fills with pleasure craft.

I don't have a boat myself, but it's at moments like these that I realize how other people having boats is still a part of my summer experience. I don't have the direct pleasure of edging my sailboat out past the lighthouse and buoys at the marina's mouth, but being able to see the boats and other people enjoying them becomes part of my enjoyment, too. Second-hand enjoyment is still enjoyment (minus the cost and sweat of maintaining a boat).

And, while we're on the theme of enjoyment, I'm still getting a kick out of my new Canon G9. It doesn't stand up to my Nikon D70s on close inspection, of course, but no one ever pretended it would. Instead, it promises to be a camera you can always have with you, that you can pull out on a moment's notice on an evening stroll. Like I did on this evening. And will again.

Bonsecours by night

I'm really pleased with this picture, for a few reasons. First, it was taken during a rare weekend that my wife and I could get away to Montreal without the wee guy in tow. We both love the architecture in Vieux Montréal and are happy to spend hours walking around, visiting museums and galleries, and trying out new places to eat. I took this shot after we'd been out for a terrific meal in a restaurant that features live jazz (and tasty dead meat).

Second, I think it's a beautiful image. I haven't done a lot of night photography and this was largely the product of chance. It had rained earlier in the evening, leaving the streets wet and the sky cloudy. So far, so good. I didn't have a tripod with me, however, so I needed somewhere stable to sit the camera that would be above the level of the fence in the foreground. As luck would have it, there was a metal service box at just the right height. As even better luck would have it, the top of the box was also wet and giving off vivid reflections of the night sky.

Finally, this was the first weekend with my new toy, a Canon G9. I'd been reading about this high-end point-and-shot for a while and thought that it might be just the thing for those times when I don't feel like dragging around a backpack containing my Nikon D70s and lenses. I love my D70s, but the G9 is a little dream. Yes, it's as noisy as heck much above ISO 200 to 400, but I'll leave it set at ISO 80 as much as possible and will learn to work with the noise when I have to (when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, etc.). I'm extremely impressed with the quality of the 12.1 MP RAW images, the accuracy of the metering, the choice of shooting modes, the zoom range, and the sheer convenience of toting around such a capable little package on a belt loop.

It's a definite keeper: a picture's worth a thousand words.

Perth pano

Another panoramic shot, this one composed of four shots taken a couple of weekends ago at Stewart Park in Perth. Perth is a beautiful town on the Tay River in Eastern Ontario, about an hour's drive from Ottawa.

Perth's Scottish heritage can be seen in a lot of the architecture in the town, as well as in many of the building and place names. It would be tempting to live there, but I think the hour-long commute along Highway 7 would soon lose it's charm, especially in winter. Still... how long until retirement?

Thrice thwarted

This is a shot I took last summer at Dow's Lake in Ottawa during the annual Canadian Tulip Festival. I got a bit tired of looking at tulips, so I decided to turn my camera on something cooler and calmer for a break.

As I was walking by the pavilion, I saw this scene of a tethered boat right away as an abstract. It happens sometimes that you can visualize an image as you want it to appear, even before you lift the viewfinder to your eye. This was one of those times.

It may be cheating to go back to the archives, but I think I can get away with it because this image has just been selected for publication in the third issue of Photosho, a magazine highlighting the work of Canadian photographers. I'm pleased that the shot was chosen to help illustrate the theme of "Water" -- and it was an extra kick to see that it appears in the preview for the issue.

Coulonge panorama

This panorama of three stitched images gives a good view of the main drop of the Coulonge Falls during the spring runoff. This is my first attempt at a stitched image and, while I'm fairly happy with it, there are a number of things I will do differently for the next one.

For example, I can see how a panoramic head, or at least a spirit level, would be very helpful. I took the component shots on a tripod with a ball head and estimated by eye how to line up the images. I didn't do too badly, but it could have been better (as you can see from the edges of the image that I've left in place).

What else did I learn? Umm... always remember to wipe the spray off the lens between shots.

All that said, I think I may be developing a taste to do some more panoramas. Stay tuned.

Coulonge begins its fall

Given that we had a near-record snowfall in Western Quebec this year, I thought it would be a good idea to see what the spring runoff looked like at the Coulonge Falls. And why not? The falls are only 110 km from where I live, after all.

This is just one portion of the top of the falls, which are divided into three sections. The middle section is a very impressive drop, and the third is a 100m log slide that was used during the days of the lumber boom on the Coulonge and Ottawa Rivers.

I took plenty of shots, included some of my first attempts at HDR and panoramas, so I'll make an effort to get them up in the next few days.

Old buds, new sky

We're emerging from a winter with a near-record snowfall in the Ottawa Valley. The snow began at the end of October and stayed. And although there is still plenty of snow on the ground around our house, winter's back is truly broken for another year. Days are longer and warmer, streams and rivers swollen. We're seeing birds in the yard that we haven't seen for months and the ducks and muskrat have reappeared in the creek that runs through the backyard.

Spring.

Jackson Poll-rock

If the Flintstones could have Stony Curtis and Cary Granite, I can be forgiven for the title of this post.

I am always struck by the range of colours that can be found in seemingly-dull rock, tones and hues that are brought out by water and good light. Today we had both.

It was a beautiful day in the Ottawa Valley and, even though there is still plenty of snow around, it is clear that winter is losing its grip. Just as well, since many of us feared losing our grip, too.

Developing Vision and Style: a review

I've just finished reading Developing Vision and Style: A Landscape Photography Masterclass, and I'm not entirely sure what to make of it. Edited by Eddie Ephraums, the book's images are uniformly beautiful and reproduced very well, even in the paperback edition of the book I bought.

After a dozen or two images, though, all that uniformity starts to grate. It seems to me that there is a certain sameness to many of the landscapes, and it shows up right on the front cover: rocks in the foreground, dramatic sky, optional body of water. The images that don't follow this formula stand out by comparison.

This is a little odd in a book that is meant to be about developing vision and style. Although the authors and other contributors talk at length about their unique visions and styles, there isn't always a lot of uniqueness on display. I was also struck by how little insight was to be gained on the photographers' vision and style: very few were able to articulate what characterized their own work, never mind offer readers useful direction on developing theirs.

The book is beautiful and the notes on how individual images were made are often interesting. The text is not nearly as interesting, though, and the title promises more than the authors deliver. I'll open it again, but I think I'll just look at the pictures...

Window on Wellington

This is the view from an upstairs room in the St. Lawrence Market building in Toronto. I was hoping to visit the small art gallery in the building, but it was shut. Instead I poked around a bit and found this view on Wellington Street.

That all men may know His work

This is the ceiling of what used to be the main entrance to the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto. I always remember being impressed by the beauty and workmanship when I visited as a schoolchild. Now that the ROM sports a "crystal" as its entrance, this ceiling is probably seen by fewer people. The legend at the apex suggests that, whatever one's culture or religion, there is a common source to life and wisdom. The new entry is at once much flashier and much less bold: all awkward geometry and no attempt at a context for the museum's treasures.