Friday, 7 September 2012

Anchor Chain on the Alexander Henry.  For whatever reasons, I've been doing a lot of nature pictures recently, but here are a few pictures of machinery to get started with.  Marine above, obviously, but below pictures of the trains that regularly unload materials at the Invista plant near our house.  Trains are very evocative for many of us, of course.  Up close, what I feel is that tremendous weight concentrated on that tiny point of metal to metal contact:

 And while the sides of railcars are so often canvases for graffiti tags, they also carry their own cryptic markings:

I'd like to begin working more on pictures of the sky.  I get annoyed when they turn out blank in many of my pictures.  Of course in the summer the sky is often simply a blue sheet, which my be nice to look at, but doesn't tend to be interesting in a photograph.  But I found myself at Lemoine Point with some great cloudscapes evolving:

Of course a good sunset needs a few clouds as well.  Here's one over the prison farm I caught from Old Front Road:

 These grasses seemed a lot like a wave where they leaned over the mown portion of the path that begins at the end of Queen Mary Road.

Right behind these grasses is the skeletal frame of a dead tree.

There's a rather extraordinary patch of lush wilderness here between Bath Road and Princess Street.  There are paths all through it, but not many people.  I'd never seen it before, and on the day I found it, before our long dry spell, it had an almost English richness to it.

It's connected -in principle if not actuality- with the new path that begins near the junction of Portsmouth Roa and Counter Street, where a fine area of wetlands lies right beside all the traffic:

I found this clearing at Lemoine Point.  It wasn't within the conservation area, but my feet were when I took the photograph.  Grass on a forest floor often gives a clearing a special aura.

Nearby, driftwood sticks on the beach-

A stand of young Red Pines at Little Cataraqui one morning while walking with our sons.


Windblown Willow trees in Crerar Park:

I've always had a special affection for boardwalks that go through marshy areas.  Their environment is so rich and fascinating, and you walk a little elevated and detached, but at any moment something strange and wet is happening right at your feet.  On the grounds that all pictures are, in the end, pictures of home, here is a boardwalk at Silver Lake Provincial Park, where we camped a couple of times this summer:

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