Musings from an underground parking lot

Look both ways, please
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Whenever I park somewhere, I take a picture. Or two. Or more. Ostensibly, I'm trying to make it easier to find my car when I return later, but beyond that the photos serve as a marker of how I was feeling at that particular moment.

They say it's the journey, not the destination. And to a certain extent, they, whoever they may be, are right. We spend so much time thinking about the "there" part that we forget about how we get there in the first place. Or what it's like after we leave and head for home. Which is something of a lost opportunity, because a lot happens between point A and point B.

As it was, this lot is under the hospital, and we were on our way to see Debbie's dad. It was another early morning among a long series of challenging early mornings - and days, and weeks... - of roller coaster-like illness drenched in overriding grief.

So, all things considered, not a fun journey. But a journey all the same. And above it all, I was - and am - on it with her. Which is why it felt temporarily comforting to compose a weird shot out the car window after we parked.

For a blink of a moment in the middle of so much darkness, I got to have some fun with light, and I got to have a sliver of normality with the woman who not only knows me better than I know myself, but who also needed a reason to hit pause for a few seconds before we headed upstairs.

Finding my car again at the end of the day was an added bonus.

Abandoned buildings and unwritten futures

Empty in the dark
London, ON
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

It's 6:01 a.m., and I'm walking to the train station to catch my ride to the big city to the east. This stretch of Dundas Street is so quiet I can almost hear the puddles from the overnight rain slowly evaporating into the chilly morning air.

This boarded up building calls to me in my peripheral vision, as if it has a story it wants me to tell. I don't really have the time for it, but I can't resist, because I don't know when I'll be back this way. At this time of day. With this particular combination of weather and mood. And who knows, maybe it won't be here at all.

I quietly think to myself that things change quickly in this universe, and we miss stuff if we let moments like this slide. So I slip my phone out of my pocket and rack off a few frames.

I still don't know what this building's story is. Maybe this place and the beleaguered, once-vibrant street it calls home are on the verge of renewal. Or not. Indeed, no one can know what comes next, here or anywhere.

But as I continue on my way, I smile with the knowledge that I've at least begun the process of telling that story, and I didn't push the moment into some nebulous day in the future. Today was a good day to start.

Everything's temporary

Color, for now
Laval, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

At 7:32 a.m. on a wet, miserable Saturday, I walked the quiet streets of the neighborhood around my father-in-law's condo one last time before we needed to finish packing the car and start the long drive home. I do this when I travel: Take quick walkabouts whenever/wherever I can to try to remember the story of the trip in pixels. On this grey morning slowly being drenched with an intensifying drizzle, I knew the colors would be muted, the results less than worthy. But once again, I reminded myself it wasn't about the pictures so much as the process behind them. I needed this time alone.

Looking at this photo, shot from the same bridge where as children my friends and I used to ride our bikes until we couldn't feel our fingers from the cold, all I can see is how temporary everything in the frame is. The leaves will soon wither and die. Their reflections in the water below aren't real - just an optical fluke based on where I happened to be standing at that moment. Even the water is temporary, set to be replaced by thick ice as winter moves into this quiet neighborhood on a tree-covered island.

Ephemeral as they are, the elements in this pic still managed to freeze the moment, to take me back to what it felt like when I was standing on that bridge, wondering how I had gotten there, and where I would go next. My wife was waiting for me back at the house, and all I needed to know was that next leg of the journey would be taken with her. Our chaotic, uncertain life these days notwithstanding, that's pretty much all that matters to me. Isn't it funny how one person can make the unfathomable feel somehow manageable?

Sofa queen

A puppy surveys her domain
London, ON
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Calli often sits on top of the sofa and scans the backyard for squirrels, rabbits, birds, and any other animal she deems not worthy of being anywhere near our home. Bad dog owner that I am, instead of training her out of this obviously suboptimal behavior, I reach for a camera.

See, she's a Miniature Schnauzer, which means she's made of some pretty strong, stout, stubborn stuff. We've trained ourselves to train her way beyond what we ever thought possible, thanks largely to the fact that she's a smart, aware and incredibly sweet and sassy puppy. We hit the jackpot with her, but we also recognize some things may never change. Like the wild barking whenever she sees animals and people for the first time, and the hours of sentinel-like positioning over the top of the couch as she seeks out new friends to, ah, play with.

And I'm perfectly okay with that. Because while I've hovered closely over her since the moment we first brought her home, I've been watching her especially closely these past few weeks.

Years ago, a friend of mine, in the middle of sitting shiva for a close family member, described her dog as carrying a lot on his shoulders. It's been years since that conversation, but that phrase has stuck with me ever since, because as I've watched our own barely-15-pound furry being these past few weeks, I've realized she indeed is carrying a lot on her seemingly tiny shoulders. She's always been a cuddly girl, but now she lingers longer, plays a little harder, lets us nag her a bit more before she decides she's had enough, if she ever decides at all. She knows something's changed, that her humans need her to step it up a little. And she absolutely has.

Given how unbelievably good she's been as we've rolled with the punches of late, I was perfectly content to let her hang out on top of the couch as long as she wanted. Thanks to those giant shoulders of hers, she clearly earned it, and then some.

An entire childhood, in one photo

Looking down at my life
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

There's a fun backstory to my laptop's lock screen image. It's an aerial view of the town, Chomedey, where I grew up. I captured it a few years ago as the plane I was in was on approach. It looks south-southeast. Highway 13 is on the right, Montreal is across the river up top, and the house I grew up in is somewhere toward left-of-middle.

I keep this photo front and centre on my laptop because I never want to forget where I come from, and I always want it close by no matter where I am. In this one shot, my entire early life unfolded. My wife's childhood home is out of frame, but where I met her as a doofus teenager is very much there, as are the streets we walked endlessly as we slowly figured out the universe had plans for us.

The picture-of-a-picture, of my old hometown on my laptop screen in the middle of a hospital atrium, tells another story. Of being far from our now-home, navigating uncertain waters as my wife sits beside her dad's bed on the other side of this giant institution. It's a small reminder of the power of photographic touchstones to cut through the chaos and take you back to places that mattered. And still do.

This photo, these places, and how and where I choose to keep them with me: they're almost like building blocks of who I am now. And as I sat in the atrium alone and pondered the meaning of the photo I had just taken, I found myself hoping all that history had prepared me for what lay elsewhere, and ahead.

It'll have to be enough, because soon enough, the laptop gets put away, and real life awaits.

Dying leaves on a cold, wet street

Endings
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Leaves cling defiantly to life on the cold, shadowy pavement between two rusting, parked cars on a windswept stretch of St. Kevin Avenue.

There are stories taking place right under us, if only we stop long enough to notice them.

Your turn: Look down. What's there?

A picture of a picture-taker

That's so meta
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

I've clearly stoked controversy of late with my decision to post photos of complete strangers in my feed. Good. That's what photography is supposed to do. If a picture makes you think, makes you feel, makes you want to respond in some way, then it's done its job.

So when, during my haphazard stroll through the neighborhood, I came across a guy shooting the fall colors with his iPad, I immediately knew I didn't want to forget this moment. I used my long lens to shoot him from well down the street, and to the best of my knowledge he never picked up on the fact that I was even there. Yet I felt a certain connection to this total stranger. Because something compelled us both to head out, to the same block, at the same time, to seek out the same kind of photographic inspiration.

I was inspired more by his decision to be there than mine because he was following the age-old photographic best practice, namely shoot with whatever you've got. He didn't have four or five figures worth of electronics and glass slung over his shoulder. Just a humble tablet. But still, there he was, out there.

I'm sure his pictures rocked. And I hope, wherever he is, he's having a good time telling his family and friends about the photo-walk he took on an unassuming street on a cold, blustery afternoon.

Autumn color over St. Kevin Ave.

Leaves among the wires
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

On a windy and cold afternoon, I took a wander through the neighborhood around the hospital. The lighting was challenging, and it didn't take long for my fingers to go numb. And, to be brutally frank, the pictures turned out barely mediocre. Because we all need more utility wires in the middle of our photos.

But I'm still glad I took the time, because it was good for my soul to do nothing but compose and shoot anything and everything that triggered me. On this day, the process mattered more than the result, and the real world didn't seem to mind my temporary absence.

Colorful journey - another view

Ablaze
Trenton, ON
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Further to yesterday's photo, this one was shot 90 degrees to the left. Color all around us...if only we take the time to stop and appreciate it. Are we really?

Colorful journey

Scene from a nondescript parking lot
Trenton, ON
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

On a long road trip home amid a couple of chapters no one in my family ever wanted to write, I found myself looking for small moments of refuge to light the darkness that's been shadowing us. At every stop, I instinctively reached for my camera not because the photography would be epic - it wasn't, because highway rest stops have the aesthetic appeal of a dirty beach towel - but because going through the photographic motions gave my brain something else to do, to think about.

As you can see, the photo is lousy, but taking it made me feel ever so slightly better before I tucked the camera away, hugged my insanely understanding wife and got back on the road.

I ended up with a lot of meh-looking roadside pics, but I'm nevertheless glad I took them. Because sometimes it's more about the process than the result.

Staring at trees with my daughter

Bare, for now
London, ON
October 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Took a photo-walk with our daughter yesterday to capture the fall colors. We must have missed the colors, as the landscape was either still green, or already bare. Was I disappointed? I got to spend a couple of hours with my kid, so no. Not remotely.

As an added bonus, we got to reflect a little at the base of this tree. We couldn't decide if it was dead, or simply awaiting rebirth next spring. Let me know what you think.

Teletubby takes over a hospital

Child's toy in a serious place
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Linus had his security blanket. As a child, my wife had her thumb. Our sons had blankies. Our daughter had a bunny. I've got my favorite, a Teletubby. Namely, Po. She's been hanging off my camera bags for well over 20 years, a Happy Meal remnant our son quickly tired of and abandoned in the crushed-Cheerio-filled space between his car seat and the seat belt buckle.

Po has been a small source of comfort no matter where I've been or what I've been up to. She's more than a little tattered and faded these days, and because I'm terrified of losing her she is now safely tucked inside a side pocket. But there was no question I wanted her in my bag before we set off on our journey here.

And when she tumbled out onto the table as I set up to do some work in the middle of the hospital atrium, it was a given that photos needed to be taken. I'm pretty sure the moment made complete strangers smile. Another comforting mission accomplished in a place where smiles are often in short supply.

Fast colors in the rain

Scene from a bridge
Laval, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared in Instagram

Sorry, gang, for not having time this year for decent fall-color photos. This one admittedly sucks, shot quickly before the rain sent me scurrying back inside. It'll have to do for now.

An unusual place for an office

Pragmatic mobility
Montreal, QC
October 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Scene from a hospital (part 4): After spending much of the week wandering the halls of this gigantic hospital complex, I've come to realize how much I treasure photography's ability to make an overwhelmingly chaotic planet seem slightly less so. I've been quietly pulling my smartphone out of my pocket and taking fast photos of whatever the hell I'm seeing or thinking. Later on, I've been just as quietly pulling that same device out of my pocket and reviewing the results - for me, or my wife, or whoever's visiting, or my bedridden father-in-law who's at the centre of this week's grand adventure. And if it brings a smile to anyone's face, I'm good.

Every pic tells a story of the moment it was taken. Seeing it takes me right back to the moment I took it, and suddenly I can feel what I was feeling then. It's weird and powerful. And incredibly welcome when nothing else brings comfort.

The story around this particular scene is an interesting one. This is the giant atrium that defines the entire length of Pavilion K, an ultramodern new addition to this 84-year-old hospital. I stole a small corner of the stage at the edge of this space to rip through some work and send it on its way. The folks who designed this amazing facility also arranged for free Wi-Fi (bless you, Telus) and I routinely came back to this end of the hospital whenever I needed to get stuff done.

The scene reflects a number of truths about how I've felt since the universe first decided we didn't have enough tangents to wrestle with, namely my tendency to go quiet, far away from others, when I hit turbulence. I'm hoping folks understand that some days, I just need to be alone, and this space gave me the option on this day. It sped up the work, and it made me feel a little better about life.

Ritual is a crazy thing, and as I composed this seemingly innocuous shot, it hit me that I was subconsciously telling the story of our life in the simple act of dropping a backpack in the distant corner of a very large room. Strange how that works, but I'm not one to question it.

A hallway you don't want to visit

I swear I didn't know this was the morgue
Montreal, QC
October 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Scene from a hospital (part 3): I've been here before. Between the ages of 4 and 6, the hospital where my father-in-law now is was something of a second home to me, a place where a little kid with bad hips was lucky enough to get groundbreaking care. I used to slip out of my bed at night and cruise the quiet corridors in a wheelchair before returning to my room where I'd report on my trip to my friend, Dimitri. He had broken his leg and was stuck in traction, so I took it upon myself to be his eyes.

I often came here, to this scary-looking utility corridor that never seemed to have any people in it. I was never frightened, though, because I believed then as now that this giant complex of old and new buildings was filled with folks whose only wish was for me to get better. And even if this particular corridor was dark and abandoned, guardian angels were everywhere, ready to swoop in on behalf of a wandering little boy. It didn't matter how it looked: Goodness was always there, even if you couldn't see it.

Yesterday, I stood at the end of this familiar spot and remembered, vividly, what it felt like to be 4, alone but not quite alone, surrounded by forces capable of turning something that looks foreboding into something far more comforting. Only this time the guardian angels are real, and even when I'm in a place like this, I'm never truly alone.

In adulthood as in childhood, this small moment in a strange yet familiar place reminded me of the power we all have within ourselves to navigate even the toughest chapters. I'm glad I had the 4-year-old me to show me the way.

Looking out on familiar territory

Framed
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Scene from a hospital (continued): It had been hours since we first set foot in this place where no one wants to be, and it took me that long to realize I had no idea where we were. Hospitals tend to do that: They cut you off from the world outside, offering only occasional glimpses that reconnect you to what's going on out there.

Windows are a rare commodity here, so when I saw the telltale light spilling out from a stairwell, I felt drawn toward it like a moth to a flame. Never mind it was an emergency exit and I had no business being there. Hours later, when some unknown soul decided to prop the door open to cool off the corridor, I quickly wandered into the big, bright space and grabbed an equally fast photo of the world outside, and snuck back out before someone caught me.

Because who knew how long the door would be open, and how long we'd have to enjoy the view?

PB&J never really leaves you

Not-so-randomly forgotten
Montreal, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Scene from a hospital: I came across this forlorn scene as I wandered the corridors in search of Wi-Fi for my MacBook.

When I was a child patient in this very institution, these little packets of Kraft peanut butter and jam became something of a touchstone for me. In my 4-year-old mind, they represented a rare moment of sweetness and home in a place that didn't always feel like either.

To this day, I stop dead in my tracks whenever I see them. Weird, I know. So you can imagine my mindset as I rounded the corner and saw these sitting, forgotten, in an otherwise empty line of chairs in a corridor. Perhaps the universe is messing with me again. Wouldn't be the first time of late, and definitely wouldn't be the last.

Either way, I hope whoever forgot these here ultimately found whatever sweetness they were looking for.

Heart-shaped leaf in a desolate parking lot

Not quite finished
Laval, QC
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

My wife pointed this out to me as we walked together across an empty parking lot far from home late last night, then waited patiently while I did my best to get a picture of it.

The universe these days seems to revel in throwing my little family one curveball after another, but she still found it in her to find inspiration amid the darkness. That - and she - is the blessing I'll cling tightly to as we navigate this chapter as a family.

Everyday carporn on a downtown street

Angled
London, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

When life is complicated and difficult to navigate - pretty much a constant now - everyday moments through a lens take on even greater meaning to me. Is it photography-as-refuge? Perhaps. Whatever we call it, picking up a camera and spending time doing nothing but painting with light is the kind of catharsis I hope everyone gets to appreciate.

Because while soon enough we're all forced to return to reality, for that all-too-brief time when the only thing that matters is getting the shot, it's easy to leave the weight of the world aside. If only every moment could be so singular.

Shooting an addict in a strip mall parking lot

Tragic
London, ON
August 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

A drug addict, clearly altered, sweating profusely and spitting venom toward anyone who makes eye contact, stumbles aimlessly through a crowded strip mall parking lot.

As I train my long lens on him and shoot a few surreptitious images, I'm reminded why I'm lucky to lead the life I lead, and why we need to do a better job looking out for others.

Note: This photo touched off quite the debate on Facebook. Here's the link.

Morning skies never get old

Hello, Mr. Sun
London, ON
October 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

So the sun came up this morning, and I was lucky enough to be around and awake when Old Sol decided to start painting the sky over a cold, empty parking lot.

7:11 a.m. hasn't looked this good in a while, and I'll have to take that as a win, however trivial it might seem.

When a cookie fails to make me smile

Sweet, sour, and hardly enough
London, ON
October 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

For the first time in memory, I cannot write. The muse, the voice, the whatever-you-call-it that fuels my creativity (and my career as a writer) has gone silent. I sit at the keyboard, staring at a blank, white window as the cursor blinks mockingly at me.

I hope it returns soon, because grieving is hard enough without having lost the one thing I've always relied on when the universe decided to the throw me and mine a curve ball.

Even my photography is, to be kind, lame. You'll have to content yourself with this stupid shot of a stupid lemon cookie. It's my favorite, and it's supposed to make me feel better. Didn't work this time.

One last look at the beach

Erosion in action
Grand Bend, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

I don't know how many years it's taken Lake Huron to wear these impossibly diverse stones down to the form you see here, but I thought it might be worth a closer look.

Floating on multicolored water

Come sail away
Port Stanley, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Everyone and everything has a story, but from the outside looking in - or from far away onshore - it isn't always apparent.

Maybe it's meant to be for me to stand with my feet in the sand, wondering who's out there, where they're going, and why.

Two F-16s and one fast car

Viper on Viper
London, ON
September 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Anyone who's been following me for any length of time knows about my love of anything that flies. And among flying machines, the F-16 Fighting Falcon ranks at the very top of my must-see list. It's a rare designed-to-a-purpose bird that, in its nearly 40 years of service, has managed to remain fairly closely aligned with its original mission.

While its official name is "Fighting Falcon", pilots often call it the "Viper". So when, at the London International Airshow I noticed one of the event vehicles - a Dodge Viper - driving past the USAF Viper Demo team aircraft along the flight line, I couldn't resist taking the shot.

I'm not sure what a V-10-powered sports car has in common with an F-100-PW-229-powered multirole fighter jet, but the name-familiarity alone made it a moment I didn't want to forget.

Go flight!

Thematic Photographic 424 - Green!

Leafy goodness - for now
London, ON
September 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

In advance of the Northern Hemisphere going bonkers over the fall colors, I wanted to take one last opportunity to remind myself that green is a color, too, and it also deserves to be celebrated. Mundane and everyday? Yes, that's the point.

It’s also the foundation for this week’s Thematic theme, green. I haven’t focused on colors much, of late, and I’m hoping to change that not only this week, but in the near future. Because there’s something to be said for looking closely at all the shades, tones, and variations of a color and having a little photographic fun with it.

Your turn: So what’s next? Take a pic with green in it. How you interpret the theme is entirely up to you - as long as you enjoy the process, we’re good. Post it to your blog, website or social media account, then leave a comment here to let everyone know where to find it. Visit other participants to spread the photographic fun. If you’re into hashtags, spread the word using #ThematicPhotographic. If you're new to this, head here. And thank you for making Thematic such a highlight!

Flight into the wind

Three birds of a feather
Port Stanley, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

You can learn a lot about life by watching Canada Geese launch themselves headlong over the crashing surf and into the windy sky.

Good metaphor for a new week, I think.

Red skies at night, revisited

When the sky puts on a show
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

As we stepped out the front door to run an errand last night, the landscape seemed to be bathed in a surreal yellowish glow. It happens every once in a while in our area, and when it does, you'd best look up to catch an especially vibrant sunset and twilight.

Since our house is surrounded by trees, we needed a different venue to shoot the moment. Thankfully I have a deeply understanding wife, because when we got in the car and I asked her to "bear with me for a quick sec," she knew exactly what I wanted to do.

I drove a couple of blocks out of our way and parked in a nearby parking lot, then quickly ran over to the adjacent park and shot some pics of the now-wide-open sky. I was done in under a couple of minutes, and soon we were back on our way.

As we drove on, the sky gradually darkened and the glow quickly disappeared, the moment slipping into the past before our very eyes. I quietly reflected on how lucky I am to be married to someone who appreciates why we need to stop and freeze time every once in a while.

Hornets, Galaxies and Extenders, oh my

Crowded parking lot
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

A pile of curvy, expensive, awe-inspiring metal. Simple, really.

Sit, Calli, sit. Good girl!

Early-morning puppy moment
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Someone listened especially well on her walk this morning. Perhaps it's an inconsequential thing when measured against the crushing load of seriousness being borne by the rest of the planet.

But in the Zen-like bubble that encompasses me and this somewhat bonkers Schnauzer puppy as we walk the sleepy neighborhood in the early morning, it's enough to make me smile. Perhaps that's sufficient.

Your (stolen) chariot awaits

No shopping here
London, ON
September 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Every time you see one of these on the street, you can be sure of one thing: It's stolen. While some may call it a victimless crime, we all end up paying more for our groceries to cover store losses. And these things aren't cheap.

Still, this one looked kinda neat sitting forlornly on an Adelaide Street sidewalk.

Let them eat (lots of) cake

Eat dessert first
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared in Instagram

Never miss an opportunity for a piece of honey cake. Or two.

From the Wright Flyer to Strike Eagles

Tails up, elevators down
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

The traditions of aviation are, to me, just as - and often even more - fascinating than the technology and the physics.

There's an easter egg in this one, and if the sight of F-15s could ever make me tear up, this was the day.

Ladders and shadows

Grab on
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Metaphors for life, baking in the morning sun behind a half-abandoned strip mall:

1. No matter what you're climbing, take it one rung at a time.
2. Cast a giant shadow along the way.

Warthog in low-level flight

Thunderbolt & lightning, very, very frightening
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

The best tool for any job isn't necessarily the prettiest. It's usually found in a dusty corner, scratched, scraped and banged up from hard, honest use, hardly something you'd put on a pedestal.

But pretty doesn't save lives when the enemy is metres away. Pretty doesn't return its pilots home with chunks torn out of the airframe. Pretty doesn't instill fear and respect by simply showing up. Indeed, I think pretty needs a new definition, because every time I see an A-10, I think this is what pretty, in an aviation sense, needs to be.

Grey plane flies, quickly, into a grey sky

Light 'em up
London, ON
September 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

Turn. Burn. With a bit of vapor thrown in for good measure.

Sidewalk, chalk, and a dog

Not the actual artist
London, ON
September 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

The world was particularly nasty this week - and promises to continue to be nasty well into the weekend, and likely beyond. So I'm offering up a random moment in our dog's life as an antidote.

Calli came across some sidewalk chalk art on a walk earlier this week, and I thought it was worth remembering. Because sidewalk chalk is awesome, and the kids who put their smartphones down and head outside to share their temporary art with the 'hood should be knighted. Or at least thanked for the smiles.

I'm not so naive as to believe that one photo - this one or any other - will fix what ails the world. But if this spontaneous moment in the life of a dog brings one smile to one person, then perhaps the ball will begin to roll in the right direction. Can't hurt, right?

Birthday girl

#LoveHer
London, ON
September 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

It's my wife's birthday today. I kinda celebrate every day with her, but the end of an orbit and the beginning of another merits an even bigger celebration. Whatever the day, she deserves it. And, selfishly, I get another day, another year, of staring into this face. Lucky me.

Messy brown water

Impressionistic waves
Port Stanley, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

I'll just come right out and say it: We're pretty avid beach people. Living less than an hour's drive from two Great Lakes - Erie to the south and Huron to the north - makes day trips to the shore an easy family decision.

When we go, Dahlia and I take our cameras, and at one point during the day we go for a wander to see what we can capture. As a parent, I cling tightly to rituals like this one, and count my lucky stars we have kids who appreciate why small-ish experiences like walking the beach with a camera with dad matter as much as they do.

We stood on the pier for a while, talking about the rushing waves for a while, swapping strategies for getting the right kind of composition, the right kind of mood. Looking at this particular frame, I think not so much of the surreal-looking result, but of the conversation that spawned it, and the magic my kid manages to create every time she and I sling the straps over our shoulders and head out.

 

21 trips around the sun

Serious by the water
Vermilion Bay, ON
July 2018

I'm not supposed to embarrass my kids, so I'll be brief: Today is our daughter's 21st birthday.

Dahlia came into the world a tiny, beautiful being with eyes that wouldn't let go from the moment we first caught her gaze. She's since grown into a less-tiny being, even more beautiful inside and out, and those eyes still captivate.

She's always seen the world through her own lens. Like her mom, she's limitlessly kind, fiercely creative, sharply intelligent, with a wicked sense of humor and an ability to connect with anyone of any age. Watching her with kids reminds me of Debbie - that teacher's gift. She has it.

If she's your friend, she's your friend forever. She's always been something of an old soul, and time spent with her is always time you wish you had more of. Whether it's barely sunrise and we're getting ourselves and the dog ready for the day, or we're running errands in the car on the way home, or we're just walking the beach with our cameras, talking about the possibilities and the technical challenges of bringing decent pixels home, moments with her matter.

Parents are always proud of their kids because, well, they're theirs. But when I get stopped by friends, colleagues and strangers alike so they can gush about what a fundamentally good person our daughter is, I've got to think that somewhere along the way, the universe saw fit to bless us with not just a child, but a truly special one.

I blinked and 21 years went by, but I'm thankful she's grown into such an accomplished, beloved individual. It's all any parent can wish for.

Your turn: Feel free to drop her a line on her Facebook page or Instagram account. Tell her Dad sent you :)

Post-industrial-age lunch room

Timeless inside and out
London, ON
July 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

This is The Factory, a 21st century indoor playzone for thrill-seeking adults that was built out of the bones of an old Kellogg's cereal factory after modern-era kids decided breakfast cereal wasn't cool anymore.

I shot this in the renovated cafeteria, and I'm thinking a return trip is in order so I can continue to explore this amazing place with a lens.

Whatever else I find, this particular image reminds me what an epic place this is to ponder life before heading back to work.

Punching a hole in the sky

I feel the need for speed
London, ON
September 2017
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Flashback to last year's #usnavy F/A-18F Super Hornet demo at @airshowlondon.

The camera's ready for another go at it tomorrow. Apologies in advance for my photographic/avgeek exuberance.

Storm's coming

Angry sky over a peaceful land
St. Thomas, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

I shot this from the parking lot of Shaw's Ice Cream. This place is an institution, an iconic stop along the way home from the day at Port Stanley Beach, and an important memory for our kids. So it was a given that we'd pop in on the way home from a day at the shore.

As it was, we left the beach early as the threatening clouds began to gather. A combination of a worrywart dad and highly precise weather radar apps on my phone meant I didn't want to chance getting caught in a southern Ontario thunderstorm. As we drove north, we watched the skies darken still further.

They opened up seconds after we finished our cones, jumped into the car and got back on the road. But thankfully Mother Nature left me just enough time - about 10 seconds, by my post-event estimate - to compose and shoot this shot across the road as the winds picked up and we could feel the first droplets of rain. Sometimes you get lucky.

Caught a horse in a parking lot

Mustang Sally
London, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Subtle, well-executed design shows itself when we least expect. But are we taking the time to notice?

Drama in the sky

Duelling clouds
Port Stanley, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

You're never too old to lie back and stare at the clouds. You never know what surprises lie in store above you.

Thematic Photographic 423 - On the street

Urban chaos
London, ON
August 2018
Photo originally shared on Instagram

I've been doing a lot of walking around this summer. Working in a new neighborhood on the edge of the downtown core has given me ample reasons to wander the streets in search of new sources of inspiration. While some of it is big, brassy, and new, this week's Thematic launch photo suggests that isn't always the case. You're looking at the back of a row of buildings that front onto tony Richmond Street (aka Richmond Row.) IMHO, the front-facing parts don't hold a candle to the laneway you see here.

In fact, the view is often more interesting when you get around the back of a thing and peer beneath the literal and figurative covers. Facades are pretty thin, after all, and all it takes is a quick walk along virtually any street to confirm that very simple fact.

Your turn: This week's Thematic theme, On the street, celebrates the random or not-so-random pics we shoot when we're out and about. If it's a street view, we want to see it. Post it to your blog, website or social media account, then leave a comment here letting everyone know where to find it. Visit other participants and feel free to invite a friend along for the ride. To learn more about how Thematic Photographic works, head here. Otherwise, happy shooting!

A Hippo makes an unexpected visit

Search and rescue
Port Stanley, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Most beach days involve little more than sitting under an umbrella trying to avoid being burned to a crisp by a certain nearby star. And maybe some snacks. And an occasional visit by a seagull.

Yesterday's, however, involved a bit of a surprise: a Royal Canadian Air Force CC-130 Hercules did a couple of passes along the Port Stanley Beach because...well, we're not really sure. But it made our day.

The urban jumble

Chaos theory
London, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Peering into a downtown laneway always makes me wonder about who lives here, and what stories they would tell. 

Eyes open, wings up

Am I pretty or what?
Port Stanley, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

On our most recent family visit to the beach, I was back at it with my camera, stalking birds and generally making a nuisance of myself.

Sea gulls aren't exactly exotic, yet for reasons I cannot explain, I continue to come back to them whenever I'm looking for a bird fix with my camera. I guess I just like them.

Don't need much more of a reason than that, right?

Where brick meets sky

Straight up
London, ON
August 2018
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Life is about finding time in between everything else to do the things that inspire you. Like pretty much everybody on the planet these days, I don't have a lot of free time. I can't just drop everything and do photo shoots wherever and whenever I want.

Instead, I try to grab the opportunities as they present themselves. Like when my daughter was getting together with a friend for coffee. I dropped her off, then wandered the neighborhood for a couple of hours. She texted me when she was done, and on the way home I told her about the couple of gigs of pixels I had captured through the lens.

What's funny is this wasn't one of those neighborhoods that offered up anything particularly interesting. A major intersection where two of London's busiest arterial roads meet, and huge expanses of big box retail have been built in just a few years. The amount of energy here is overwhelming, but the architecture is hardly memorable.

But you do what you can with what you've got. So I walked behind one of the big box stores and eyeballed the brick wall carefully from the desolate parking lot. The occasional vehicle cruised on by, but I was largely on my own. The sun was setting, casting its perfect golden hour light on the giant stretch of red brick. I immediately knew it was worth coming here.