Frozen lights in the sky

Iced tree
London, Ontario, January 2007 [Click all images to embiggen]

I was up early Monday morning finishing off some writing for work. I often do this when I have early morning deadlines: I wake up early, around 4-ish, boot up the laptop and hammer out as much prose as possible before the kids bring the house to life around 7.

This time, as I tapped out text from the warmth of the living room couch, I could hear the incessant light patter of freezing rain gradually coating the windows of our house. I tried to ignore the growing weather-based threat, but the prospect of leaving the house after breakfast and de-icing our not-so-mini minivan made this Monday seem more morose than most. I cranked up iTunes and focused on my writing.

The clock hit 7. A certain six-year-old bounced out of bed and meandered down the stairs. My writing was done. The day had begun.

We got out of the house early because you never want to be rushing when it's icy outside. As I first stood on our porch and took the scene in, I thought this would make for some nice pictures. But using the camera in the rain didn't seem like such a great idea. Oh yes, I also had no time...had to de-ice the wondervan. Pictures would have to wait.

As you can see, they didn't wait long. Just before dinnertime, I went outside with my tripod-mounted camera and carefully composed a bunch of low-light, long-exposure images. Obliquely lit tree branches almost seem to come alive when they're coated with ice. For the second image in this sequence, I'll leave it to your imagination to concoct what it may or may not be.

After 37 minutes of wandering around our front lawn taking pictures in the damp cold, I turned to face the house and saw a little girl waiting for me to come back inside. I grabbed a quick image of her lovely little face in the window before I headed in for supper. Warmth just on the other side of the window. Such a world I live in.

Your turn: I believe that cameras can be used to tell stories - even small vignettes of family life. Are you using yours to tell stories in your own life?