even with a limited view…

click on the image for a larger view

The fog has enfolded us for several days. We can barely see across our bay, and certainly can’t see any farther. At the same time, while our view is limited, there’s a different kind of beauty even now—  even here shrouded in the mists.

In the forests, the mosses practically glow in the diffused light, and the depth of the forest is more ‘visible’ as the trees fade into the mist. On the roads, the shapes of the bare trees are revealed — unique sculptures, each one. Spider webs are strings of tiny beads, as the moisture forms on each slender thread.

What is it you see when the fog enfolds?

a wintery path…

a path to Bellhouse Beach – click on the image for a larger view

Today’s a dull and rainy day, so I’ve been looking back through photos from last year about this time. This one is to me hugely appealing. The mystery of what’s just around the bend…

I love the frosty rosehips, and the dried grasses that bound the trail: soft wintery colours.

Morning by morning…varied views

Each morning, when I take the dog out for her first walk of the day, I venture out to the Point for a clear view of the morning’s light. If it has rained at all, I note the measurement in the rain gauge, and then empty it for the next 24 hour monitoring. And I take photos.

Every day is so different —the light,  the angle of the sun, the patterns and textures of the clouds, the tide’s height in its constant ebb and flow, the way the waves are meeting the shore,  the presence of various shore birds, gulls, otters and seals. Occasionally, on a very still morning, my attention is caught by the breath sounds of a humpback whale, and I see the spray of it’s powerful exhalation far out in the distance.

For over a year I’ve been documenting the mornings under the title ‘The Point this morning’.  I had intended to do my photo project  only for the 6 months from winter solstice to summer solstice, to note the wide varying of the sun’s position at sunrise. But these daily photo glimpses became such an important part of my day’s beginning, I carried on.  Now, I can’t bear to give it up so I’m thinking I will contimue for the time being and see what happens…

tangled reflections

I took this photo last week in the warmth of the afternoon light and the stillness of Whaler Bay. What caught my eye was the complex reflections with the fallen tree, the tangled lines of its branches both above and beneath the water and the curves of the sandstone intersected by the straight lines of the wharf’s shadow.
The resulting design is intriguing: another instance of the playful art of nature all around us.

 

transformation…

This sight stopped me in my tracks today:  pink honeysuckle climbing and blooming all the way up an anchor cable of a power pole. Sunlit against the shadows and fir trees, with fragments of blue sky  visible through the spaces— the beauty and colour invited standing at the roadside, looking, and capturing a photo (or three).

So often honeysuckle clings to the trunk of a tree, choking its life from it, but this one’s found a place to thrive and bloom, doing no harm at all. And it has transformed the harsh hard lines of the anchor cable into a striking beauty.

light in the forest

click on this image for a larger view

I have loved walking in the forest since I was small. It is, for me,  a place of mystery, of wonder— and a veritable feast of  beauty.

Here in this image, the warm sun pierces the canopy— its light falling on the tender fresh green of a young hemlock.

What is it about this that evokes such pleasure? even a simple joy…  I wonder.

 

glimpses of the extraordinary amidst an ordinary day