Sun and Snow

In fairer seasons those perfect cloudless days can do as much to elevate my disposition as the next person. If such a day also so happens to be free from work obligations it might be the perfect time to do a bit of token work around the house followed by some less demanding social/recreational activity. Whatever that activity might consist of it probably won't involve throwing a tripod and bag of camera gear into the car and heading wherever fancy takes me. Those sojourns are usually reserved for days that promise more mood, more drama than harsh sun and empty skies are likely to deliver. A thunderstorm wouldn't be out of the question if I could keep the kit dry. I've avoided shooting in direct sun so much at times I wonder if I've undergone the photographic equivalent of going Goth.

That's the way of things over the past couple of years at any rate. In earlier times, not long after I had really started getting a handle on black and white and darkroom printing, it was more about detail and texture. My images tended to be more abstract and I printed them with a mind to achieving a full tonal range from near paper white to the deepest black that could be achieved. Back then skies didn't figure quite so prominently in what I was shooting and full sun just meant going out early or late enough to get some dramatic side lighting.

I haven't abandoned that approach really. It's just for the past couple of years I've been inspired by different things. Lately though it seems some of that old inspiration has been making a re-appearance and I think it's due in large part to snow.

I couldn't tell you the year this was taken other than it was sometime in the early to mid 90's, but somehow I recall the date was March 7th. It's a good example of the kind of work I was doing back then, both in the field and in the darkroom. I'll be a happy fellow once I feel I have back the kind of darkroom chops I had in those days. (Camera: Arca Swiss F line 4x5, Lens: 210mm f/5.6 Schneider Symmar-S, Film: Probaby T-Max 100 but don't quote me on that, Paper: Ilford MG-IV FB.)

Snow makes itself into new objects, creating forms of its own. It blankets the messy ground with a clean white canvas, ready to be painted with shadow, isolating objects that break above its surface. It can be specular, translucent or take on multiple textures. So many of its more photogenic aspects however require sun. Without it snow is often just a bland featureless cover hiding the landscape beneath.

 So it is that through the course of this particularly snow graced winter that the sun has again started to factor into my photography as more than just a source of dramatic back light for moody clouds. I've started to work with once more, even anticipate it.

At least that's how it's been to this point. We've moved on into March now. Last week temperatures got above freezing for the first time I think since December and since then has been wandering even higher above that mark with increasing regularity since. Winter may yet have an encore or two in store but it won't be long before snow cover is cleared out in a spring liquidation and I'm trading in my Kodiak boots for a pair of wellies. Bountiful as this winter has been photographically part of me is all too ready to get on with it. (And I must confess, it's the greater part.) Whether this rekindled working relationship with the sun in all of its unveiled glory continues when this happens, well... we'll just have to see.

This section of what is collectively known as Niagara Falls is one of only several hundred waterfalls across the planet to go by the name "Bridal Veil Falls". It baffles me how often it's failed to occur to anyone that as virtually any waterfall resembles a bride's veil that this isn't a particularly distinctive moniker. 

The out flow from the now defunct Canadian Niagara Power generating station. The water keeps flowing for free and the generators are still sitting there doing nothing - seems like a waste not to turn them on just because they're old.

I didn't notice until I decided to touch up a few dust spots the big blob of lens flare sitting in the branches towards the upper left like a big icy coconut that had somehow just grown there.