Having spent a couple of years on the Canadian prairie now, I realize that what I miss most about the California coast is not exactly the ocean itself, but rather the air; dense fog, constantly shifting breezes humid with sea mist, and the resulting ethereal quality in the light. I find that this image captures that sense of layered expanse very well, shot along the Big Sur coast where a stately line of trees delicately screen the distant horizon beneath a blanket of swirling fog. Blue and yellow-gold are the summer palette of my childhood, and I love how these colours become more vivid as the season progresses toward autumn. Prints available here!
More moments like this can be found throughout my photography archives, especially in the California galleries, with stories and travel tips shared here on the blog:
Mysterious, dark, quiet; a grove of trees in the coastal mountains of Big Sur, full of mist and morning light. I’d arrived at the campsite after dark, chasing the sunset down the winding curves of Highway 1 and setting-up camp as stars appeared overhead. During the night, fog gathered along cliffs and settled into valleys, and I woke to find the forest shrouded in soft layers of light.
Camping on the California coast is often a damp, chilly affair, and this day was no exception. The warmth of a small fire, the coziness of a sleeping bag and a book, the sound of the nearby ocean all helped to pass the time.
As the sun settled again to the west, the early evening light filtered into the deeper, shadowy corners of the forest grove and campground, and I was able to capture this layered scene full of contrasts and soft tonality. The branches of the trees lend a sense of enclosed space; a cathedral of organic shapes and windows of light. Of all of my Big Sur experiences this moment remains one of my favourites, full of the restorative, meditative mood I found present in that particular time and place.
Most of the photographs I collect when visiting Fort Point, San Francisco are of the architecture and magical spaces between shadow and light created by the repeating motifs and angles of the Fort itself. Climbing the steep stairs to the top of the structure, one is rewarded with a spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge, and this day was no exception.
I have seen this place at various times of day, in different seasons, all types of weather, and part of the what keeps bringing me back with my camera is the potential for dramatically framed, constantly shifting scenes. On this particular July afternoon, the fog had settled heavily along the water, and as I admired the form of the bridge vanishing into the mist, a pair of figures paused in just the right spot to unexpectedly add balance to the frame.
As I had been at that moment experimenting with the panoramic capabilities of my phone, I quickly captured this photo with the camera in hand, rather than risk losing the moment while switching to my DSLR. I did managed to grab a couple similar frames with the big camera afterward, but for me this image stands alone.
Minutes later, the couple had moved on, and the fog began to lift, giving way to a glorious sunny day and a large pod of humpback whales feeding beneath the bridge – those particular photos will get their own post – proving that one never knows just how fleeting a moment will be or what will come next!
Seasons of transition always prompt me to pick up my camera more often; the slanting, evocative light of the sun low in the sky, the luminous colors of fresh spring growth or the brilliant golden, scarlet, orange palette of fall have always provided abundant inspiration. However, having spent most of my life in the mild climate of coastal California, this year’s visit to the much more northerly environment of Saskatchewan has brought me to an even deeper appreciation of the drama and fleeting beauty of autumn.
On a recent sunny weekend, I visited Wascana Centre in the heart of Regina, Saskatchewan. A series of colder days had signalled a distinct shift from summer to fall, and signs of the seasonal change had begun to appear around the city.
The man-made lake of Wascana Centre is surrounded by lovely parks, and the trees had begun to turn golden yellow, their leaves made even more bold against bright blue skies.
This seasonal color is fleeting, as I discovered last year when I first visited the park. On that day, the weather was cool and misty, and many of the leaves had already fallen from the trees, leaving only a hint of the brilliant autumnal display I was fortunate to see this year.
With a severe windstorm stripping the leaves from the trees earlier this week, the fall foliage display in Saskatchewan is quickly drawing to a close, with many bare branches above and deep piles of brown leaves filling the streets and yards of the neighborhoods below. I look forward to watching the last bit of this transitional season slip into winter, and will be eagerly anticipating the arrival of spring, when the cycle begins anew.