It starts with a deepening of shadows as the daily path of the sun passes closer and closer to the horizon. Vivid fall shades of gold-yellow and crimson start to appear at the edges of the green late-summer leavers.
Geese and gulls pass overhead well into the evening hours, calling to each other in the settling darkness with a cold northern wind at their backs.
The garden slows, enormous summer leaves of the rhubarb parting further with each frost, revealing bowed scarlet stems as they settle toward the waiting earth. Bulbs are planted beneath a blanket of fallen twigs and foliage. Flowers go to seed and the hibernating bees choose their dens for the winter.
Sunsets soften and linger in the treetops, where the last bright green leaves flutter in a cool breeze. The tree canopy transforms into an almost architectural experience. Trunks and branches are revealed through colourful patches of thinning leaves, like stained glass suspended within the cathedral framework of urban forest arching overhead
All of the photos in this post were taking in September and October of 2022 for a personal project. As I followed the beautiful light and details through the autumn season, themes of transition, loss, and regeneration emerged. Portions of the work I created during this time have become a study of a particular kind of moody fall aesthetic.
This is a season as much about colourful leaves as it is a time of deep preparations; migrations or shifts to dormancy are measures taken to survive the coming winter, while the fallen leaves are beginning the process of decaying into nutrients needed for new spring growth. Without these changes and periods of hibernation, the raucous energy of spring would not be possible. Just as necessary is the abundance of summer, providing the raw materials of fall when it arrives again.
Subscribe to my newsletter to follow along with future personal work, as this seasonal study and many other projects continue to evolve.
From California to Manitoba, I have photographed monarch butterflies in their caterpillar and adult butterfly forms over the years. I had yet to photograph a Danaus plexippus chrysalis, and was hopeful that this year I’d get the chance to do some macro nature photography of a chrysalis.
Luckily, 2023 turned out to be a banner year for butterflies in the garden. The milkweed was covered in voracious caterpillars as adult butterflies danced through the flower beds.
Finding a chrysalis can be difficult, as their jewel-like and gold-flecked forms disappear into the foliage, tucked under branches or overhanging ledges. I was lucky to spot a monarch chrysalis on an old window screen, providing an opportunity to get extra close with a macro lens.
It was very difficult to balance the focus across the textural details I wanted to photograph. The green structural “plates” of the chrysalis, raindrops, and iridescent gold spots all felt important to include in the composition. This image took several attempts, crouched in a shaded corner of the garden to take advantage of the soft, indirect light.
A couple weeks later, I noticed monarch butterflies appearing several times a day on the arching stems of the milkweed and sedum. These newly hatched adults hung upside down, turning gently in the warm breeze as their wings unfurled. Their colourful wing scales, sensory body hairs, antennae and proboscis all appear in delicate detail.
To view these images in larger detail, check out my full gallery of monarch butterfly photography. Prints available upon request.
“Increasing levels of abstraction and complexity frighten those for whom art is a means to attain a comfortable expression of calm, luxury, and delight.” – Bernar Venet
On a leisurely walk along the waterfront of Vancouver a few years ago, I noticed the sunset light illuminating the sculpture on the beach in the distance. I like the scale and resemblance of this piece to an organic form, like the rib bones of a whale. The title however refers to the precise mathematical specifications of the sculpture.
‘217.5 Arc x 13’ by Bernar Venet, photographed in fading sunset light, Vancouver, British Columbia
I quite enjoy large, abstract sculptural works and the ways that the natural light, landscape, and details of the setting can bring new perspectives and meaning to the piece. It is wonderful to encounter an opportunity to photograph such a scene when the conditions are right for an especially atmospheric sculpture study.
In the realm of fine art photography, the choice of print media plays a pivotal role in how the artwork is presented, perceived, and preserved. Different types of print media can enhance an image in different ways.. Taking a selective approach to print production can be a reflection on an artist’s unique perspective and skill.
Printing on high-quality print media supports my artistic vision, bringing out nuances in colour, tonality, texture, and detail. These visual elements are often what has inspired me to create a photograph in the first place. Carefully chosen print media ensures that the artwork reproduction is visually stunning and retains aesthetic appeal for years to come.
The print mediums I offer have each been chosen for their ability to enhance the experience of these photos in print. In the following sections, we’ll explore three different options available for my open edition fine art prints:
Archival paper prints Giclée canvas wraps Mounted acrylic prints
This article will provide an overview of benefits and considerations for each of these print media options. Whether this information helps you choose one of my prints or make an acquisition from another artist, I hope these tips give you confidence in curating your own unique art collection.
Fine Art Prints vs. Regular Prints
When it comes to fine art prints, they stand apart from regular prints in several significant ways. These differences lie not only in the materials used but also in the level of craftsmanship, longevity, and artistic value they offer. Let’s explore these distinctions:
Materials: Fine art prints are created using archival-quality materials, yielding nuanced colours, tonality and contrasts that enhance an image. On the other hand, regular prints are produced on standard photo paper resulting in dull colours, harsh contrasts, and poor detail.
Longevity: Fine art prints are designed to be long-lasting, capable of retaining their vibrancy and integrity for generations. The use of archival inks, coupled with acid-free materials helps to minimize fading and deterioration. Regular prints, while visually pleasing initially, may not possess the same level of durability. These prints can undergo dramatic colour fading or degradation over time, regardless of how they are displayed or stored.
Artistic Value: Fine art prints are more than just reproductions of an image; they are considered artistic works in their own right. Artists carefully select their preferred printing techniques and materials to enhance the visual impact and convey an artistic vision. On the other hand, regular prints, while serving a more functional purpose, may not carry the same artistic significance.
My fine art prints undergo a meticulous printing process, in collaboration with a trusted printing lab. This partnership ensures that the final print captures the intended aesthetic of my original photos. This combination of high-quality materials, masterful production, and artistic merit sets fine art prints apart from regular prints.
Exploring Different Fine Art Photography Print Media
Archival Paper Prints
Definition and Characteristics: Archival paper prints are produced on acid-free, museum-grade paper. High-quality inkjet printers and archival pigment inks ensure exceptional image quality and longevity. This style of fine art photography prints offers a classic and timeless aesthetic that can be further enhanced through your choice in framing.
Importance of Archival-Quality Paper: The choice of paper is crucial for the longevity and preservation of fine art prints. Acid-free paper prevents yellowing and degradation over time, ensuring that the print retains its original colours and quality.
When selecting archival paper for my fine art prints, I tested several styles and finishes. The standout choice for my work is Hahnemühle FineArt Baryta Satin paper, known for its smooth surface, excellent colour reproduction, and deep blacks. I have found this paper to be suitable for a wide range of subjects, from atmospheric landscapes to moody abstracts. Critically, this paper is made to withstand the test of time, ensuring longevity and preservation of the artwork so it can be enjoyed for years to come.
Giclée Canvas Wraps
Definition and Characteristics: Canvas wraps involve printing the image directly onto canvas fabric, which is then stretched and wrapped around a wooden frame. This creates a three-dimensional, gallery-ready artwork. Because of their beautifully wrapped edges, you can display Giclée canvas prints without the need for additional framing. This style tends to be lightweight, making it very useful for larger-sized prints. The texture of the canvas adds a unique tactile quality to the artwork, enhancing the visual appeal and giving it a handcrafted feel.
Suitability of Photos for Canvas Prints: Landscape, nature, and abstract images translate beautifully onto canvas. The textures of the print can enhance the organic and textural elements of a photograph. It is important to consider the resolution and level of detail in a photo, as finer details may not be as sharp on canvas as they would be on paper prints. For this reason, some of my older lower-resolution images may not be available on canvas.
Benefits and Considerations: Canvas wraps offer several benefits, including their ready-to-hang nature, durability, and the ability to display artwork without the need for framing. Canvas prints have a painterly look, adding depth and dimension to the photograph. They add a contemporary and artistic touch to any space, making them popular choices for modern home decor. It is important to consider the dimensions and display placement of canvas wraps. At larger sizes they require sufficient wall space to showcase their full impact.
Mounted Acrylic Prints
Definition and Characteristics: Mounted acrylic prints start by printing the image onto high-quality photographic paper. The paper is then face-mounted to a clear acrylic sheet. This process creates a sleek and modern artwork with vibrant colours, incredible depth, and a glossy finish. Acrylic prints offer a contemporary and luxurious aesthetic, suitable for displaying high-impact photographs.
Durability, Depth, and Vibrant Colours: Acrylic prints are known for their durability, and the acrylic sheet protects the image from UV damage. The printing and mounting method enhances the colours, contrast, and sharp details of a photograph.
Benefits and Considerations: Acrylic prints create a stunning visual impact in any room. The acrylic sheet adds depth and luminosity to an artwork, making the image appear particularly vibrant and captivating. Their durability and modern feel make acrylic prints a popular choice for both home and commercial interior decor. Careful cleaning of acrylic prints is strongly recommended, using a soft, dry cloth.
Additional Factors to Consider When Buying Art Prints
Print Size and Display Options
Along with considering your fine art photography print media options, it is important to be thoughtful about sizing and placement. The your ideal choice of print size and format depends on many factors. You will need to consider the intended display location, size of the wall, framing options, and your personal style preferences.
Consider the space where the print will be showcased and take measurements to determine the appropriate size. Make sure to consider matte and frame if needed, and include some negative space around the print to help enhance the visual impact of the artwork. For example, larger prints can make a bold statement when featured alone on a wall. Small prints can be grouped tightly to highlight interesting juxtapositions and similarities.
Conclusion
When purchasing fine art photography prints, there are several factors to consider. The use of specialized, archival materials ensures longevity and artistic value. The best art photo prints will be of a high-quality, contributing to the enhanced experience of the artwork.
It is important to consider print size and display options when selecting an image and preferred print media. This helps ensure that you acquire a print that fits your display preferences and requirements for its intended location.
In summary, I hope this article has helped to clarify and define the advantages and considerations for each of these print media options. Archival paper prints, with their acid-free paper ensure excellent image quality and longevity of a piece. Canvas wraps provide a textured, painterly aesthetic that adds dimension to an artwork. Mounted acrylic prints offer a sleek and modern look with vibrant colours and incredible depth.
I encourage you to explore the full range of print media options if you are considering an open edition or custom print from my collection. With the information covered in this post, you can be confident in choosing the perfect medium that resonates with the artistic intent of the images and complements your personal style.
On a warm May afternoon aboard a small ship I watched as deep, swirling currents formed whirlpools in the channel ahead.Little did I know,I was about to have an unforgettable Seymour Narrows travel experience.
We had been fighting the tide for a while and making slow progress. As we reached Seymour Narrows, where the current can reach 15 knots, conditions warranted a cautious approach. Our ship anchored in a sheltered cove and we went ashore for a safe view of the treacherous channel
Top: Maud Island Trail leads through dark forest to an overlook of Seymour Narrows Bottom: Abstracted twater details of strong tidal currents
After a short zodiac trip to a small dock and a trailhead, we were welcomed by a bright grassy path leading toward a dark forest. The cool air of the shade on Maud Island Trail offered relief from the heat. As we hiked up the rocky path. a view of water gradually appeared through the trees. We had reached a mossy bluff overlooking Seymour Narrows below.
Top: A mossy trail through the forest with a glimpse of Discovery Passage beyond Bottom: Seymour Narrows and the surrounding mountain landscape
Seymour Narrows & Ripple Rock History
These waterways and the surrounding landscape are the traditional territory of the Wei Wai Kum First Nation. It is noted in their background & historical information that “The regularly treacherous waterways and passages of places like Seymour Narrows, Race Point and Arran Rapids were utilized strategically in warfare to successfully defend against raids by northern tribes of the Haida and Bella Coola.” It has been fascinating to learn more about the rich regional history and modern-day presence of the Wei Wai Kum indigenous communities here.
Seymour Narrows is a short and powerful stretch of water in British Columbia, Canada. It is part of the Discovery Channel, along the Northeastern coast of Vancouver Island. Along with being an important shipping channel, it is known for being the site of an enormous man-made explosion. In 1958 the underwater mountain Ripple Rock was “moved” to make transiting the narrows safer. If you are curious, there is an excellent short film and more information about this bit of Ripple Rock history here.
Meditations on the Tide
We spent some time resting on cushions of deep moss along the top of the bluff, watching the rushing water below.
Snowy mountain peaks rose in the distance as small boats rode the tide South through the channel. Whirlpools swirled across the glittering dark blue and silvery water. An especially frothy patch of water churned where Ripple Rock lurks beneath the waves.
Strong tidal currents flow over the site of Ripple Rock
Returning to the ship, our skipper decided that the timing was right to catch a sunset slack tide through the narrows. Our overnight anchorage was just a little further North at Deep Bay. By the time we entered Seymour Narrows the whirlpools and rapids had calmed. A cold wind swept down from the mountains. I particularly enjoy these moments on the bow, quiet and contemplative. I had read about Seymour Narrows, but experiencing it firsthand has put into perspective just how powerful the changing tides can be in this part of the world.
This was an especially memorable afternoon and a fun travel photography challenge, as the conditions changed quickly and often. Find my full expedition story here. As of the writing of this post, I still have many more photos to edit and stories from this journey to assemble, so be sure to check back or even better, subscribe to my newsletter so you don’t miss future updates.
My favourite way to approach travel photography is as an act of discovery. Before landing in a new destination I have usually done some research about the location, but I like to arrive with no specific photos in mind. I find that I make better images when I have few preconceived ideas of what a place “is”. I am more likely to encounter an unexpected cultural or historical detail when I follow the light through a new environment. This enables me to create travel photos that are both artistic and authentic as I document an inspired experience of being there.
Early morning in a quiet market courtyard, and sunset skies over the waterfront of Granville Island, Vancouver
The drawback to this approach is that during shorter visits, the opportunities for good light are inherently more limited. What may be a dull scene on an overcast morning could be spectacular on a sunny afternoon, but by then my camera and I may be on to other sights. So it was especially nice on a recent short trip to Vancouver, Canada to have a couple of nights on Granville Island. This provided ample time to explore, walking to the market beneath dramatic views of the towering Vancouver cityscape.
The glittering skyscrapers of False Creek overlook Granville Bridge and waterfront docks.
Granville Island market stall fruit display
This is ancestral land to the xʷməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish) and Səl̓ílwətaʔ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh) and remains unceded territory. Prior to industrial development, the sandbars and shallows of the tidal environment were rich with food sources. Surrounded by distant mountains and alive with abundant biodviersity, this would have been an especially beautiful place.
The present-day Granville Island is man-made, built with material dredged from the nearby waterways. What was once an inter-tidal ecosystem is now a mix of industrial enterprises, performing arts venues, and arts and crafts studios. This urban environment lends itself to a different kind of travel photography, emphasizing the buildings and dense development of a very specific neighbourhood.
My visit in late winter meant that the sightseeing crowds had not yet arrived for the busy summer season. I enjoyed capturing a sense of calmness, even in the middle of the hustle and bustle of a city port and industrial neighbourhood. In particular, the early mornings spent wandering the quiet streets offered plenty of beautiful light and photographic inspiration.
Beautiful light on Granville Island
Exploring the Vancouver cityscape from Granville Island
Granville Island is a great place to explore new angles for Vancouver travel photography. The surrounding views of the city are remarkable as the light changes throughout the day. Towering buildings reflect in the water below, while bridges and trees provide unique framed perspectives of the landscape beyond.
One Vancouver skyscraper in particular has a very interesting shape, narrowing at the bottom than at the top. I was able to photograph Vancouver House in both early morning and late afternoon light. I like how each composition gives the building a slightly different presence within the cityscape. There is subtle context provided by other elements in each composition. Meanwhile, the angle and futuristic form of the architecture remains similar in both photos.
The presence of such large buildings directly reflected in the water of False Creek is also quite striking. At sunset, the walls of glass and steel catch the sunset light. At sunrise, the light casts the Vancouver city skyline into shadow, as the angular buildings appear to extend to the distant horizon.
There comes a time in the deep cold of every Canadian prairie winter, when the need to be in the presence of new green growth becomes a necessity. Something fresh, urgent, reassuring in its promise that spring will eventually arrive.
Back in January, I happened to receive some bulbs for growing indoors – forcing – and had a few dozen of another variety in storage in the back of the fridge.
Recalling how my mother would use beautiful glass marbles when forcing bulbs, I decided to give it a try using my collection of sea glass. With a sunny south-facing windowsill available, I arranged the glass pieces in some small vases, set the bulbs on top, and added water.
It took a couple weeks to see many signs of life. First to appear were tiny roots, and as the days have ever so gradually gotten longer, so have the leaves, finally opening to flowers.
Over the years I have revisited various still life photography subjects and ideas.
A recent photo workshop introduced me to some new ways of looking at still life art. I have decided to make still life studies a larger part of my photographic practice. The process is enjoyable, as it requires that I spend time with the subject, paying attention to how I can shape the light and shadows and achieve a desired effect within the composition.
My goal in this still life arrangement was to explore contrasting materials. By using glass pieces to play with layered light and colour, I was able to create textural details that compliment the natural forms. I prefer to work with available light and found that this simple still life subject photographs well in small patches of winter sunlight. Once the green leaves emerged from the bulbs, I began documenting their progress.
Muscari armeniacum blue and white seaglass, January 2023
Of particular interest were the white tendrils of roots, threading down through the sea-glass. I have more work to do in exploring their visual potential, particularly as abstracted elements in different kinds of light. These reaching forms, hidden then revealed by the glass, bring to mind the idea that some of the most important stages of growth happen unseen. This winter has been a season of quiet change as I have been integrating and internalizing the lessons of the past year. From processing tremendous loss to focusing on my creative growth, I have been sending out my own delicate roots and tapping into new possibilities through my personal work.
A single blue-purple Anemone coronaria flower in a textural triangular midcentury glass vase, against a dark backdrop and illuminated by a bright wedge of sunlight.
I have been exploring some still life photography setup ideas this summer, and there are quite a few things I wish I’d done better in this image. The vase could be placed a little further back in the light, allowing more room for the flower’s shadow. I could have better controlled the light at the edges of the scene, especially to remove the distracting curve in the rear sweep of backdrop paper and create a sharper corner in the pointed edge of light as it falls to the far left in the frame. These flowers have now faded in my garden and any future attempts at a more refined version of this setup will have to wait until next year. I am glad I tried something new, and overall very happy with what I have learned from the results. In that same vein, I am embarking on an exciting photographic experience this fall, and hoping to fail spectacularly at least a few times – practice makes progress.
Big Southern Butte rises 2,300 feet from the Snake River Plain, Idaho
Last year’s marathon road-trip to California offered the welcome opportunity to experience some new atmospheric landscapes. The stark terrain of Idaho felt particularly surreal, after the rolling prairies of North Dakota and forested mountains of Montana. I have recently had a chance to sit down and edit my photos from Craters of the Moon National Monument.
A small windblown juniper tree clings to a ridge of a lava flow, at Craters of the Moon National Monument, Idaho
The geology of the Snake River Plain in Idaho includes a fascinating array of volcanic features, and photography at Craters of the Moon was full of inspiring details.
The calderas and lava flows are the result of a periodically active volcanic rift zone. The last eruption took place around 2,000 years ago, making this a relatively ‘young’ place. Only well-adapted species can survive in the harsh conditions of the region, and it is home to several distinct ecosystems rich in plant and animal diversity.
The boughs of a pine tree catch the last daylight at Craters of the Moon National Monument, Idaho
I found the tenacious, twisted trees to be especially striking in the soft light of dusk. Surrounded by dark scree and rubble, the bristling green growth seems almost improbable. Yet trees, shrubs, grasses and lichen are everywhere, scattered sparsely across piles of basalt. These hardy species use what little soil their roots can find in the rocky ground, and over time can establish diverse communities in unlikely places.
A light dusting of snow across a lava field, at Craters of the Moon National Monument, Idaho
The colour palette and texture of the volcanic environment shifted throughout the day. Golden grasses and blue-green sagebrush in contrast against lava flows. Fast-moving clouds in pearlescent shades of blue and pink, disappearing over distant mountains.
“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” – James Baldwin
Fair warning, this is not a happy post, and beyond a shared mood, the text has very little to do with the image.
It has become increasingly difficult to focus on what is right in front of me. There is a deepening, bitter edge to each day, and I know the root of it is a pain which is being experienced at personal and collective levels everywhere. So many aspects of the social contract have been broken, or worse, are proving to have never existed at all. The events of January 6th were unsurprising but still a shock; after an hour or so of live coverage, I felt my mind retreat, curled into the fetal position where I sat, and fell asleep. I take pride in not looking away from even the most jarring images, but I’d hit my limit. On so many levels, it was a day of terrifying white nationalism and grotesque systemic racism on full display. And we can expect more of the same because the hatred espoused by racists is rooted in fear and pain, which they will continue to avoid addressing.
I don’t know about you, but I find myself marvelling at layer upon layer of heartbreak and frustration. Are we still in the midst of a pandemic, bracing for the consequences of holiday gatherings and travel? Did my neighbours have yet another string of visitors every day this week, despite lockdown rules? Have members of my local government been taking tropical vacations while telling the rest of us to stay home, in the midst of a particularly dreary Canadian winter? Has the weather been unusually warm and dry, both here in Manitoba and back in California, indicating yet another record year as climate change grinds away like a foregone conclusion?
I look for the good news. The unassuming heroes and helpers, the small signs of progress. I know that there are reasons for cautious optimism, and I am doing my best to cling to hope instead of hate. Part of that process is to occasionally let the weight of everything fall out of focus and acknowledge the pain. We’re allowed to feel hurt and angry right now, so as to better regroup, refocus and move forward, because we have a long, long way to go.
As winter settles in, the sun is slipping lower and lower across the sky. During the winter solstice here in Winnipeg, Manitoba the sun barely clears the treetops. Such low-angled rays of light are magical, and to celebrate the season I’ve gathered some winter light photography snapshots from recent years…
I find that winter light is particularly well-suited to capturing surreal window reflections, allowing for layers of light and colour to blend with abstracted patterns. When illuminated from a low angle, snow becomes a textural wonderland of sparkling deep drifts, painted with fading light and blue shadows.
Trees and winter light
Filtering the last rays of golden hour, or catching a gilded glow in their bare branches against blue skies. Such stark winter forms are welcome whether framing sunsets or arching above city streets, as they lend shape and contrast to the winter light all day long.
Trees lend structure to the frosty winter air, and when they are illuminated just-so they compliment the bones of the landscape or urban environment, laid bare by the season.
Winter light photography and interior spaces
Casting soft, surreal shadows in unexpected places, light filtered through old glass windows is particularly irresistible to try and capture with the camera. Something as simple as an unintentional coffee cup still life might appear on a wall for a moment, painted in shadow and quick to disappear as the light shifts.
Often the swaying of winter branches will make these patches of light dance and shift, like light through moving water as seen at the bottom of a pool.
Varied views of the same cityscape
Downtown Winnipeg features a mix of old and new buildings. As their facades catch and reflect the winter light throughout the day, the mood and feel of the cityscape changes too. With the early sunset, lights in windows twinkle while the dusky sky still holds onto the last of the sunlight. The moon rises over the city with its glow softened by the icy atmosphere.
The golden glow of the winter light is especially beautiful contrasted with the blue shadows and snow of the cityscape, and I couldn’t resist the reflection of a sunlit building in the sideview mirror on a winter’s afternoon.
Windows become magical glittering surfaces
Frosted with ice crystals or illuminated by gently shifting shadows. Abstract layers of light are caught and transformed inside and out, and even though the daylight hours are short, there seems to be no end to the beauty that winter can conjure with a bit of moisture or moving light on glass surfaces.
The two images at the bottom left of these wintery window scenes are actually shots of frost accumulation on the inside of an old set of windows. The two images in the bottom right are of the same perspective through fluted glass at different times of day.
Of course a winter landscape is made even more beautiful by the light
Rippling sheets of icy clouds and endless shades of blue. Sunsets last longer, and the blushing glow of their colours is reflected in the snow and ice. Often the sky looks like mother-of-pearl, iridescent and luminous.
I love how the winter landscape is often a study in subtlety, with fence-lines and horizons blurred by blowing snow, and the sky a soft gradient veiled in lacy clouds. When the sunsets are colourful, it is always in shades made more vivid by the coolness of the surrounding scene.
Little details of domestic life are illuminated in beautiful light and shadow, turning the long winter months of staying mostly indoors into magical journeys through familiar spaces.
Something as simple as a tissue or glass of water can be transformed by the winter light. Of course the dog loves the winter sunlight too, and can often be found basking in the glow of those fleeting, low-angled rays of warmth.
All of the photos in this post are from various phone cameras. I find that winter light photography inspires snapshots as it is such a fleeting and beautiful part of every day. To see new snapshots as I share them, just head over to @photoapk on Instagram and follow me there!
Blue summer skies and fluffy white clouds mirrored in the water of Whirlpool Lake at Riding Mountain National Park, Manitoba. The dazzling colours of summer are fleeting in Canada, and in this scene there are vivid blues and greens. The dark forest recedes along the horizon while a breeze skims the surface of the lake, softening the reflection of trees and sky.
“After everything that’s happened, how can the world still be so beautiful? Because it is.”
Margaret Atwood
This is Treaty 2 Territory, land of the Métis, Anishinabewaki ᐊᓂᔑᓈᐯᐗᑭ and Očeti Šakówiŋ (Sioux).
I encountered this moment of wilderness reflection on a short summer hike last year. Exploring Riding Mountain National Park means many opportunities to view lovely small lakes like this, and I am always hoping to spot some wildlife on the opposite shore. The breeze (mostly) kept the mosquitos away, and nearby meadows were bursting with late summer wildflowers. As a photographer, a landscape reflection like this is impossible to resist. The scenery and elements allow for beautiful compositions and studies of balance, which I particularly enjoy capturing.
There is often a sense of serenity in photos of natural reflections. When I look at these images now, I am transported to a calm, breathtaking time and place. The texture of air moving across water reminds me of vintage glass windows and how their rippled texture smudges the colours in the sky. The mirror-like surface of the water makes the natural light even more magical. Whether viewed as abstract textural art or as a study in landscape reflection photography, Whirlpool Lake in Manitoba is a special spot that I hope to photograph again soon.
