Last Commented Photography Blogs (166)

Video of lava 'waterfall' into the ocean in Hawaii for your viewing pleasure.

Awake early this morning, I headed out for a bike ride, not too sure of where I was going to go. Deciding to ride along the dike by the river, I was a bit disappointed in the lack of wildlife. Even birds were hiding, although I did see some American Goldfinch on the path, which took off as soon as I saw them. I'd like to get a photo of them on a fence post or the barbed wire. So far, one photo is on a metal farm gate covered in bird poop. Not exactly an appealing feature.

The last one I took was on the gravel road of my usual loop. It's funny how the females are so much duller than the males. The males are a brilliant yellow, while the females are a much more muted shade, verging on brown. I haven't managed to capture any decent photos of the female, as she always seems to be in the shadows.



I was captivated by the weak sun rays stretching across the cut hayfields, highlighting the rusty wheels and seat of an old farm tractor decorating a garden. Riding on, a flock of American Goldfinches erupted from the long grass disappearing into the foliage of a nearby tree. Pedalling on towards the river, the cows that were out on pasture are still not back on it. I don't know if the river is still too high, but it was nice to see the dairy cows enjoying their pasture. They'd saunter up to the gate as I'd ride by, thinking I was there with their grain.

Rather than ride the 'loop' - under the bridge and along the riverside, I doubled back and rode down one of the side streets. After checking the slough and the path the other day, there's still part of it that's submerged in water still, so I'll wait until everything's stabilized and I don't have to ride through muck.

I wasn't going to go down towards the old heritage home, as I was there the other day and there wasn't anything that caught my eye. However, as the morning was so pleasant, I opted to take the extra time as the area is known to be a birder's favourite spot.

I've mentioned before how much I miss the lake I used to ride around as there were always squirrels and wild bunnies, something I've not seen much of here. I was richly rewarded this morning when I spotted a baby bunny crouching in the grass, giving me the wary eye. Quietly getting out my camera, I was able to get relatively close to the little thing. At one point, it almost looked sleepy as it seemed to get used to me being there.



A few minutes later, Mom leapt out of the long grass on the other side of the narrow road, bounding across the asphalt and disappearing into the long grass and brambles. Still, baby just sat while I was able to get some good shots of it. As the school bus appeared at the crest of the hill, I rushed to move my bike out of the way, and baby probably followed it's mother, the noise of the bus disturbing all the wildlife.





With some good shots, I turned towards home, my eyes constantly flickering towards the slough. A couple of redwing blackbirds noisily flew out of the brush, their distinctive red markings brilliant in the morning light. As I didn't have my camera ready, I did not stop to see if they'd fly from the branch they'd landed on in hopes of capturing them in flight. They are so fast, it's a challenge to get them in motion.

A good morning, I'm glad I went out for the extended bike ride, and can hardly wait until I can do the loop again. It seems to be a long, long time, - about a month I believe. It'll be great to get back into the route and routine, as my experience is, the more wildlife sees you, the more they're comfortable with your presence - which makes capturing a photo much easier.

Of course, as long as I'm not their next meal.

A full moon highlighted surrounding clouds, illuminating fields and the ribbon of freeway. Head and taillights streamed the highway in sporadic intervals. I sat in the dark of my car, parked at the south end of the overpass ramp, waiting.

About a dozen pick up trucks with flashing bars on their cabs darted back and forth across the overpass, setting up orange road closed signs. My camera, on tripod, perched in front of my right headlight, aimed at the overpass. Still, I waited.

Another car pulled in front of me, partially blocking my view of the overpass. Fortunately, the young couple were cognizant enough of their position and moved voluntarily. We spoke a little, checked camera and video settings and waited.

Another vehicle pulled in and two guys in safety vests got out and walked up the road closed ramp. As they returned, one of the workers yelled at him to get off the road and couldn't he read?

I heard the rumbling before I saw the bright headlights, my heart skipping a beat as I leaped out of the car to position myself behind my camera. Focussing on the peak of the overpass, the massive load came into view, taking up the entire width of the two lanes.

A bright red truck and attached red low-bed gleamed in the daylight like glow of the numerous pilot trucks surrounding this epic load. Molson Brewery's new plant was ready for the delivery of their massive brewing tanks. Having watched it being barged up the river last Saturday, Monday I was waiting for the last leg to be trucked from the dock to the plant, two of the largest tanks 'dressed' in Molson's trademark brands. One looked like a giant beer can of Molson's Canadian, and the other a giant beer can of Coors Light.

With transportation as our photo assignment for this month, I really wanted the brewing tanks as I didn't think too many would submit a photo of them. One, because very few knew about it, and two, I didn't think anyone from our club would wait until midnight to take photos, other than me.

Although I got numerous photos with great results, a photo just doesn't do justice to the actual size of these tanks. Due to the size, hydro crews were in the intersection to keep the truck clear of the wires, along with all the pilot cars in front and behind this very long and very tall load.

Stopping on the downward slope of the overpass ramp, waiting for crews to ensure clear passage through the intersection, it was obvious the tank was taller than the traffic lights and the back end of the low-bed had flexibility in moving separate from the truck. It was absolutely amazing to watch the skill and manipulation of the truck driver, eking that load in and around traffic lights, street light standards, hydro wires as well as barriers. What would have been a simple left hand turn for anyone, was a complex and complicated procedure that took the better part of an hour.

Once safely through that intersection, the tanks headed for a second overpass, crossing back over the highway before heading towards the plant. Due to the length of time it took to finesse the load, I had plenty of time to find a new location and set up my camera. Finally, the trucks appeared, gears shifting noisily as they chugged into the night on the other side.

Racing to the final intersection, more crews were already set up, waiting for the immense load to make it's debut. Setting my camera up again, one man in a safety vest with a camera was behind me. I asked him if he'd been hired by Molson's to take photos, which he affirmed. As he looked familiar, I asked him if he'd been on the fishing boat that was following the tug and barge up the river, and if he'd waved at me when I was on shore. He affirmed that yes, that had been him.

Many, many photos later and watching the tail lights of the trucks disappear at the plant, I headed home at 3am. The last photo of the truck/tank in motion, with the photographer standing taking a photo is my submission for Monday.

Or add your own caption for the following photo.

With new tires on my bike, thanks to my awesome neighbour, I headed out early this morning to the dike for a short ride. With the advent of the May long weekend, everyone is heading out to campgrounds and various and sundry places.

As flood warnings are prevalent along the rivers from as far north as my daughter right down to where I live, many of the campsites are under water already, and if not, very close to it.

I noted the other morning that I'm able to use a higher gear to pedal and put that down to increasing muscle. Yay! So off I go to the dike, riding by newly mown hayfields, dotted with huge white plastic wrapped bales like giant marshmallows. It's overcast again today, but as with the previous couple of days, it's high clouds and will burn off. The sun is already peeking through areas, and it's one of those lovely spring mornings where it's warm enough to wear shorts and a t-shirt, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Not much wildlife, or for that matter, any signs of life along the dike. The river is slowly making it's way closer and closer, and an incline that I used to walk down to wander into the river bed, almost half way across the river, (about 2km) is now completely under water. As it's still quite a ways from the dike, I'm still comfortable riding it, so far.

I love taking my bike out and being able to spontaneously take a different path or road. This morning instead of following the road home, I took a sharp right to find out where the country road led. Surprisingly, it led to an old building with faded lettering of 'Scott's Meat' - an abattoir I'd presume. The paved road turned into a gravel road and curved back to the dike.

Riding towards the dike, a huge dairy barn was below the dike on my right, the cows still quiet in the early morning. On my left, an overfull slough was creeping through the grass and bush, it's green stillness reflecting the trees and overgrowth. A closed metal farm gate prevented me from going further, birds landing briefly on it before disappearing into the mass of wild bush. An American Goldfinch (wonder if he has a visa? lol) landed on the farm gate, and luckily I already had my camera out with the zoom lens on it.



Pedalling back the way I came, an abandoned shed sits right next to the train tracks, and I wonder what animals it used to house.



Back at home, I'm excited today, as I'm heading across the border to a wonderful area for photography and to check out a new bike. As the price here was rather exorbitant, I couldn't justify buying a new one. Until a good friend and accountant advised me that as my photography is a business, the bike is part of how I take photos and therefore a business expense. Yes!!

Man, I love that woman! lol. The bike will need to be ordered in, and take about a week, but I can wait. In the meantime, with transportation as our next assignment, I'm thinking I'll head down to North Bend on Tuesday and take photos of the ancient trains.



Enjoy the day! (Doing the happy dance at having my bike back)

Or add your own photo caption(s).

One of the main benefits that photography has done for me is get me exploring new and different places. With our assigned topics, it challenges me to find and photograph something different, but also to utilize my camera to it's ultimate capacity.

In February, I was lucky enough to be at the wetlands for a walk. I was facing east, towards Mt. Cheam to take a photo when I heard this strange huffing noise, much like a horse working. Didn't see anything so I turned back, and I heard it again. Looked again, nothing. Turned back again. The third time I turned around, the noise was quite close and I was a little unnerved.

When I looked into the water, an otter had pushed his way up through the ice and was trying to pull himself up onto the ice. His mate popped her head up shortly after. Although I did get some photos through all the branches in front of me, they aren't that good. I did manage to capture a decent shot when he dove back under the ice and popped up elsewhere.



Then, when I was riding the dike at Harrison Mills, a former hub for trade before roads and bridges replaced the need for boats, I was fortunate enough to see three blue birds in a tree. I was thrilled and took numerous photos of them, although I had no idea what they were, having never seen them before. It turns out they're Mountain Bluebirds and migrate from Mexico to the Yukon every year, and are in this area only a briefly, on their way north.



At that time, the river was really low and you could walk for miles along the river's edge, and with the sunny weather, perfect for photo ops.



Cycling back the other way, I crossed the train tracks and saw a huge old stone building that looks like there was a fire in it at some point. After doing some research, I found that it was the old mill, and despite no trespassing signs, kids were inside the building, letting off some kind of pink smoke bombs. At first I was a bit peeved that the photo I wanted would have this pink smoke in it. But, thanks to photoshop, I was able to take the colour out of it, and end up with a rather (imo) spooky looking building.

Considering we have abandoned buildings as an assignment next year, it'll be perfect for that, unless I find another cool abandoned building on my travels.



I had forgotten about this bike ride, and it seems it may be time to revisit it, unless, of course, I find a new one to check out.

An absolutely magnificent morning, and I was awake at 5:15am and on my bike by 5:30am. A strong breeze from the north east had me pedalling a little harder than normal towards the dike. Once on the dike, the breeze at my back, it was easy riding in the coolness of the hour.

On my way to the dike.

The sun hadn't risen above the mountain yet, producing a yellow glow in a dip between two peaks. Usually I ride the country roads towards the river, but decided today to take a little bit longer route, which turned out to be fortuitous. A man walking the dike asked me if I was taking photos of the bear, and I asked if there was one. He said he hadn't seen any on the dike so far, this year. He said wait until the corn is up in the summer, and the the bears are in the corn fields.

On the dike.

He told me that red foxes, bobcats, coyotes and other wildlife lives in the copse of trees and bushes that was just off to our left, surrounded by farmer's hay fields. He pointed to something way out in the field and said he thought it was a red fox or coyote. I didn't have my zoom lens on the camera, but when it started to bound through the field, it's colouring and bushy tail had me thinking it was a red fox. How cool! I can hardly wait until I go again and maybe get a photos of it!

He pointed out a path where he said bobcats come out of frequently so it sounds like he walks the dike all the time, early, and has been graced with glimpses of wildlife. Lucky guy!

Other than the fox from a distance, I didn't see any wildlife this morning, it either being too early, or too late. Back on the country roads, a nursing calf in a small field stopped long enough to turn his head and look at me, his mother watching my every move. The calf's name is Joey, judging by his ear tag, an apt name for the cute little guy.


Down to the river, and it's steadily rising, more than half way up the former road to the ferry. Passing my favourite bench, I noted the river is even higher, and had no desire to be that close to the edge of the river.



Former ramp to the ferry, more than half covered in water.

Riding through the foliage, the rushing river could easily be heard through the bushes. Coming out near the farmer's blueberry fields, I stopped dead. Directly in front of me the two track dirt road was flooded. Not wanting to find out how deep it was, I was able to walk up a small berm and around to the other side. It wasn't exactly comfortable, as the river was racing by on one side, and the slough had flooded the road on the other. One never knows how stable the ground is underneath.

Looking back towards the path - no idea how deep it is, and didn't want to find out.

I won't be doing that 'tour' again until the river has abated, unfortunately. I really love that circuitous route, but safety is the priority. Cycling by the heritage home, her Iris are out, along with some other pretty yellow wildflowers. She came out the door just as I was taking photos of the iris and gave me permission to go on her property and photograph a gorgeous gold iris that was just glowing in the early light.

Iris


Love the iris 'tongue'!


Cheery flowers - no idea what they are.

Photography has made me 'see' so much more of life. What could be better?

Went hiking on the Appalachian Trail to the second highest peak in Virginia. This is on Whitetop Mountain.
Buzzard Rock

Summit of Whitetop

Forest





Ran into this little guy on trail. Nonvenomous.

What better way to start the day than with a bike ride in the early morning hours? I love being out and about while people are still sleeping. It's so quiet and peaceful, the only sounds those of nature. Travelling east, my first stop is the tulip lady's house, her beautiful Japanese plum tree in full pink bloom.


Continuing on my journey, the scent of freshly mown hay wafts on the soft breeze, long lines of cuttings damp with dew, left to dry in the sun, Mt. Cheam towering over the valley.


Cycling south, the pavement comes to an abrupt end up over an incline, a gravel road taking it's place. Blueberry fields stretch to the west, a robin perching on a numbered post indicating the row. Two old rubber boots are upside down over a couple of posts, an indication of something to the owner.


An occasional house and riotous vegetation hide the slough to the east. An abandoned house, broken windows with plywood coverings and sagging doors in a state of disrepair, blackberry bushes almost to the height of the second floor, is the last house.

Just past a barrier of tall alders and poplars, an large field is home to hydro towers. At this early hour, as the sun starts to peek above the mountains, even the towers take on a certain beauty, metal girders glowing as they reflect the first fingers of light.


Continuing on my journey, the gravel road continues towards the bridge and the old ferry landing. Wild cherry trees intermingle with other deciduous trees, their white blossoms contrasting with the new growth of spring leaves.


Of course, my penchant for macro photos had me paused there for quite some time taking the 'perfect' shot of shadow and light on the milky, fragrant blossoms. A challenge, as this close to the river, the wind is always a little stronger. Of course, gusts of wind play games with one's attempt at macro photography. I believe I did manage to 'win' this contest, though. lol.


Stopping at the bridge and the former road to the ferry landing, solar rays danced light across the river, breaking through the clouds behind the indomitable Mt. Cheam. Too many clouds for a colourful sunrise, the shadowed scene filled me with a sense of wonder and peace.


Riding under the bridge, the riverside bench greeted me. I can just visualize people sitting there, watching the former ferry traverse the river and dock on either side. Perhaps watching the pleasure boats in the summer, large plumes of water arcing behind sharp turns, waves slapping the shore from their wake.


Through a narrow path and vegetation that threatens to take over along the riverfront, the path opens up to a gravel lane, blueberry fields bordering both sides. Dodging potholes and mud, asphalt greets me at the first massive domicile, following the path of the slough. A heritage home sits at one corner, it's multi coloured orange tulips with sculpted petals beckoning me to photograph it's allure.


The owner of the home was out walking, a rosary in her right hand, greeting me with cheery hello. We discussed the height of the slough, already high with spring runoff, and the resident beaver she hadn't seen in awhile. I mentioned that I'd seen one there the evening before but it was too fast and too dark for me to take a photo.

...continued....