Icicles - and everything else - are temporary

Phase change
London, ON
December 2016
Click photo to embiggen

Whenever the world spins too quickly for my liking, I tend to seek refuge in words and images. Whether I'm walking around the neighborhood with my camera in hand, or sitting in the gentle pool of light cast by my monitors in the home office, I feel like these simple acts of creativity are enough to keep the chaos at bay, even if only for a short while.

As you might imagine, this has been one of those spin-too-fast weeks, and true to form, I've been reaching for keyboards, cameras and solitude. As part of this almost subconscious ritual, I've been throwing my DSLR camera into my backpack before heading off to work in the morning. While I often take pictures during the day with my smartphone, taking the so-called "real" camera somehow raises the stakes, and forces me to be less flip about the whole process.

Our office is, to put it gently, not the most energy-efficient building in the city. The eaves often sprout huge icicles in between London's regular freeze-thaw cycles, a sign of major heat escaping from the edge of the roofline. I find them endlessly fascinating, and have been telling myself silently for weeks that I should bring the camera in. Because they can change or disappear in a blink - and then we'd have nothing tangible to mark the fact that they existed.

This was the week, and every day around midday I'd pull the Nikon out of my bag and head for the windows. The skies were defiantly grey every time I tried, but I still did my best to bring home at least a shot or two that reflected what I was feeling when I tripped the shutter.

The world can be a dark, frightening place. But if you always know where your comfort zone is, and have the wherewithal to put yourself there whenever you need to, chances are you'll find the light soon enough.

Your turn: What - or where - is your comfort zone?