The Voice of Stillness

Emerald Lake, YOHO National Park

Initially I pursued this image in response to the color of the water.  I thought I would call it “Emerald Waters”.

This title was discarded on the morning of the picture because of the quiet of the hour.  Emerald Lake can be busy, but that Tuesday morning everyone was either sleeping still, or elsewhere.

I found that the stillness, not the color, was speaking to me. 

I sat on the shore and marvelled at the quiet… that peace that nature offers when no wall obscures contemplation; no noise distracts; no voice interrupts Mother Earth when she is whispering to us.

Crowned in Fire Opals

Kananaskis Bull Moose

As Moose are preparing for battles, they have to lose the “velvet” from their antlers.  They often thrash the massive structures in the willows to remove the soft tissue and sharpen the pointy bones beneath, as a knight would sharpen his blade.

 This picture was made at the height of the fall colors, and the bull was nearing readiness for the war for love.  We spent hours together. He would thrash, and then lift his head in majesty with those vivid little branches dangling brilliant gems above him in the light rain.

 The colored leaves evoked the jewels of a crown right away, and since opals come in a varied spectrum including “fire” opals which dazzle in yellows, oranges and reds, the title emerged before I left the battlefield.  Opals are the birthstone of October, and the picture was made on the first of the month… a fitting crown for a prince who wants to be the king.

Desperados

Monarch Butterflies

I lay down by a little trail puddle to achieve this angle as a river of Monarch Butterflies chased the sun down a mountain trail.

The scene reminded me of an old cowboy movie where some bank robbers are riding out of town with a posse of trouble coming close behind them.  The sparkles behind suggested the smoke from gunshots as the lawmen race to catch the outlaws.

In the picture, we can see how each butterfly is different from the others, lending character to the individuals as they flee in remarkable detail.

I always wish the best for desperados.

Rapture

Grizzly Bear and Aurora Borealis

It was the second night of the Great Aurora of May, 2024.  I had arrived at Lake Minnewanka early and walked way down the shore alone opposite a small peninsula. I was glad to be away from the noisy crowd gathering at the bridge area.

There was a goose nest on the hill and the vigilant parents warned me with a honk or six to stay clear.  I thought they might become an element in my eventual photograph. 

Shadows gathered in the valley, and just before dark I saw a Grizzly emerge from the willows to the left.  The geese saw him too and voiced their alarm.  Did the Bear know about their precious eggs?  Better had they stayed silent!

The Predator was very deliberate.  He began a progression of psychological warfare… meandering closer, then stopping and simply watching.  This drove the geese into a frenzy.  They argued whether to attack the beast or to abandon the nest.  The discussion only confirmed to the Bear that they had something to protect.

One could see the first faint streaks of the Aurora building when the Geese suddenly departed in loud dissent, leaving the Bear to calmly ascend the slope and take the prize.

The Aurora grew much stronger in the next minutes and beamed a brilliant stroke directly into the scene.  The Bear, now content with its success, took a moment to stand on its back legs, lifting its face in admiration and wonder at this remarkable light show.

Light in the Valley

Lake O’Hara

I have stood above Lake O’Hara on these rocks before, way back in the age of film.  Wow!  Getting older now.  Someday I’ll slow down maybe.

 It is such an iconic Canadian scene.

 My assistant and I had tried for months to get a bus ticket, a camping spot, a lodge booking, whatever would erase the long hike in to the place. We had no luck, so we read the weather forecasts, and did the hike.  I hiked for months before in preparation and it paid off… just.

 As we gained the plateau above the fabled lakes, it was already clear that the wind was shifting into high gear and a storm was coming from the west.

 I hurried my tripod into place on the very edge of the cliff and spent an hour watching the beams. They rarely eluded the gathering clouds, but I waited for illumination of the waters below and for stillness in the trees.  There were brief moments of crystal autumn glory between the gusts.

The rain arrived in chilly blasts just after this photograph was made, and we descended just as the slippery rocks questioned our preparation.  It was a long walk back in soggy darkness, but the memory of this moment lit our path.

Thirty Karat Gold

Opabin Plateau at Lake O’Hara

It was the last week of September, and the mountains were full of that golden hue offered by Larch trees.  Larch are deciduous conifers.  Their needles turn color and blow away like leaves in the autumn, so the trick is to catch them right before that happens in the big winds above us on the high slopes of the Rockies.

 They are indeed a treasure for locals and visitors alike!

 The title of this image comes from the recognition that in fact these trees are more valuable than pure gold (at least in my mind).  Since pure gold is measured at 24 karats, I decided to increase the value.  I could have said 25 for the concept, but my friend Matt and I had to walk over 30 kilometers that day to find that little waterfall and the surrounding glory, so the final title was gently forged in super gold.