This was my first view of Lac-Supérieur when I was driving in the Laurentians early yesterday morning. Despite the sign, I really wanted to run down the dock and dive in.
Recently I was in Montréal and my first destination was the Palais des congrès. A stroll down Avenue Viger led me to this convention centre and the beautiful façade of colorful glass windows that drew me there. I crossed the street to frame the windows behind the fountain in the park there. La Joute is the name of the sculpture fountain and it breathes fire! I didn’t know that when I arrived though. Standing at the edge of the fountain’s pool, I overheard a boy ask his brother when the fire would start so I decided to wait and see what would come next.
A few minutes later, a thick haze started to roll over the water and soon covered the pool and rose up towards the bronze sculptures of animal and human figures. The presentation was impressive and had a gentle flow as it moved from water into fog.
A few people had gathered and were enthralled, as I was, when the first flickers of flame began to appear around the central statue. These flames connected into a complete ring of fire and rose a foot or two off of the water.
The backdrop of the Palais made for a lovely atmosphere and a great scene to photograph throughout the sequence.
The Grand Prismatic Spring is the largest hot spring in the United States. The rings of color which the rock, microbes and water create are amazing and I had hoped to be able to photograph them when I visited in late May. The weather had other plans and the cold, wet air created a heavy mist over the scalding hot water. The wind blew in on gusts from the south creating waves of cloud.
Occasionally, the elements would conspire and rifts would open in the sheets of white lifting off of the spring’s surface. I walked around the boardwalk twice, enthralled by the isolation created amid the fluid transitions blowing by.
Cold morning air met the early sunshine and seemed to create ice fog that quickly flowed off the fields west of Bragg Creek into the trees. The fog rose up as well and filtered the rising sun as well.
Mist rising off the Elbow River near Bragg Creek catches the sun in its own halo of sunlight.
There is a small hill that overlooks a farm and its fields in West Bragg Creek which is a favourite place of mine to photograph from. Throughout the year, the landscape is always beautiful, presenting an ever-changing face as the seasons cycle through. Late summer brings mist which stretches over the tall grass around dawn. These are a few of the photographs I’ve taken over the last week or so.
(Please click on any image if you would like to view a higher resolution version)
With the cooler mornings of late August, mist becomes a frequent visitor before dawn in Bragg Creek. This young White-tail stag stared at me from a field near the hamlet which gave me a moment to photograph him surrounded by, and almost a part of, the mist on the weekend on a day that started very close to freezing.
The heavy rain last night created thick mist this morning. I went out looking to work with the ethereal and had a great time working around a gravel backroad in Bragg Creek and a trail on the edge of Kananaskis. The weather has been fantastic during the day with storms at night for the past week or so. I’m happy for this pattern to continue.
One evening we watched a crab boat come down the Khutzeymateen Inlet and weigh anchor for the night. The next day there were some opportunities to photograph the vessel shrouded in mist. Against the massive trees of the rainforest and the steep valley walls, it looked almost like a toy.
(As always, please click on any image to open a higher resolution version on its own page)
Mornings in the Khutzeymateen often find the coastline wrapped in blankets of fog while low flying clouds cling to the steep hills of the rainforest and the snow-covered peaks. The Grizzly Bears are the obvious draw but the landscape of this northern part of the Great Bear Rainforest is hauntingly beautiful.
Later in the day much of the fog burned off and when we sailed by the boat I was able to have a closer look.
Justifiably, the Grizzly bears I spent time watching in the Khutzeymateen cast a long shadow and much of my time there and since returning has been spent thinking about them. I have to say that even if I had seen no wildlife, the scenery in the Khutzeymateen is brilliant and I would have been able to fill my memory cards with landscape imagery.
The inlet is relatively narrow, running roughly a mile wide for most of its length. The mountains rise steeply up from the water, blanketed in most places with dense rainforest. The trees are broken up by chutes, large and otherwise, where the snow has conspired to avalanche and by areas where the barren rock has prohibited the forest’s advance.
Throughout the day, chains of mist evolve across the mountainsides. Whether under a leaden sky or in bright, open sunshine, these ethereal cousins to clouds continue unabated. It was a true pleasure to just relax and watch them travel past. While looking for the valley’s wildlife, I enjoyed picking out details along the coast as we motored past in the little zodiac boat.
On the second to last afternoon, the rain abated and the sun lit up the valley a little before night stepped in. It whispered of great weather and that held true for the next couple of days.
We sailed a few miles westwards towards the mouth of the inlet on the last evening. The light was warm, so was the air – a nice time to photograph off the bow.
That night, the moon was full and when it cleared the ridge above the cove, it was a beautiful scene to behold.
The last morning, dawn was spectacular.
I’m not sure how long autumn will stave off its colder cousin. I’m finding snow on my mind a lot lately so I hope that isn’t imminent foreshadowing at work.
This image is from a field in Springbank the morning before the current stretch of rain settled over us.
I still need to get out to capture the fall colors which are really coming in now.