I have a day job. The standard two days off a week that might or might not end up being the sort of days that inspire photography if indeed none of life's little obligations has me otherwise committed. If I'm not careful an entire season to pass with almost no new work to show. After letting last winter go by this way I'm hopeful the outing I wrote about in my previous entry Embracing the Elements marks the start of a more productive season this year, establishing a bit of momentum as it were.
So it was a few days back that an unexpectedly heavy winter blast and accompanying highway closure gifted me with an unexpected day off I felt the opportunity accompanied by a bit of pressure to keep the ball rolling by taking photographic advantage of the situation. This was enhanced by the fact that by the time I had the driveway clear enough to go anywhere the morning light along with the peak of the freshly fallen snow look had both deteriorated into something less photogenic. It was turning into an unremarkable day with some not quite so virgin snow all around. Something could still come of that, you never know, but the slight sinking feeling in my gut told me the best part of this opportunity had already slipped away, taking some of that momentum with it.
Hoping things would get interesting later on when the sun started getting lower again I let the missus talk me into an early afternoon grocery run accompanied by my thirteen year old daughter who was also enjoying a bonus snow day. Still, nagged by the sense I was letting a free photo day get away from me, setting an unwanted precedence along the way, I was at least careful to bring the backpack containing my take-everywhere Iskra along for the ride. Good decision. While skies overhead were just plain bland, from the shopping centre which is much closer to the lake I could see conditions over the water were much more interesting, resembling those I had experienced a few days before when I had gone with the whole RB67 kit in tow. Though today I had only the Iskra and my captive passenger (who offered no words of protest, bless her) it seemed a return visit might be fruitful.
Part of my motivation was simple curiosity about how much things had changed out on the lake. On my first visit I was taken by surprise at how much had already frozen over after an unusually warm December. On this day the ice went out much further still so that an elevated vantage point was required just to see open water. The first thing that struck me was that the ice hills that seemed so massive only a couple days before now seemed rather flattened. This was a bit of a disappointment as on my previous visit it seemed they could easily be worked into some interesting compositions but I passed them up in favour of finding a vantage point that would allow me to include open water in the composition without undue risk of an unplanned polar bear swim. Shrunken as they now appeared the potential they seemed to have earlier was lost.
Knowing this return visit would have to be shorter (what with the attention span of teenagers these days and all) I stuck mostly to the promenade, seeing things from the same perspective I had seen them from a hundred times before, except that with the ice they were not the same things. The sky, while just as interesting, wasn't quite the same as it had been last time either, containing enough blue this time it seemed filters should effectively enhance the look whereas last time everything appeared too monochromatic for filters to matter. I carry contrast filters in my backpack too. I stuck on a nice orange one and left it there.
It was a bit off the cuff, playing with composition including sky and barren trees, sky and not quite so impressive as they were a few days ago ice hills, sky and tag along teens. Handheld shooting isn't my usual M.O. and though it didn't seem like I was likely to get any real keepers it was still feeling worth the effort of coming out. If nothing else I wanted to finally get a new roll of film through the Iskra. The one I was shooting was loaded months ago after I had improvised a few light seals to address a few leaks that had appeared and I was still unsure if the new seals were effective. As we headed back to the car I still had two frames left, which turned out to be perfect. Passing an old concrete structure I had photographed dozens of times before, a deteriorating room sized stand that had once served as a base for some sort of tower back in the amusement park days, I noticed the most unusual combination of sun behind a semi-translucent bank of cloud. The strange appearance was helped by the fact I was wearing my honey tinted polarizing sunglasses, an effect I hoped the orange contrast filter would help me match on film. A small voice inside was protesting, as it usually does, at yet another photo of that old cement thing, but from this vantage point and half buried in ice as it was the shot would be unique and the voice was once again over ruled and I used up my remaining two shots on the roll.
The result is at the top of the post. It was better than what I imagined my little return visit would result in, and I think I like it more than anything I got the first time out with the RB, its full retinue of lenses and pretty much the whole day to shoot. Of the two frames I got only the first really caught the effect I was after. By the time I shot the second that just right blend of cloud transparency and sun was already disappearing. Oh and the other good news - no sign of light leaks.
In the end any sense that I had let any opportunity slip or lost any momentum was gone. Prospects for the rest of the winter still seem pretty bright. It remains to be seen of course, but whatever the case, I'll keep you posted.
Part of my motivation was simple curiosity about how much things had changed out on the lake. On my first visit I was taken by surprise at how much had already frozen over after an unusually warm December. On this day the ice went out much further still so that an elevated vantage point was required just to see open water. The first thing that struck me was that the ice hills that seemed so massive only a couple days before now seemed rather flattened. This was a bit of a disappointment as on my previous visit it seemed they could easily be worked into some interesting compositions but I passed them up in favour of finding a vantage point that would allow me to include open water in the composition without undue risk of an unplanned polar bear swim. Shrunken as they now appeared the potential they seemed to have earlier was lost.
It was a bit off the cuff, playing with composition including sky and barren trees, sky and not quite so impressive as they were a few days ago ice hills, sky and tag along teens. Handheld shooting isn't my usual M.O. and though it didn't seem like I was likely to get any real keepers it was still feeling worth the effort of coming out. If nothing else I wanted to finally get a new roll of film through the Iskra. The one I was shooting was loaded months ago after I had improvised a few light seals to address a few leaks that had appeared and I was still unsure if the new seals were effective. As we headed back to the car I still had two frames left, which turned out to be perfect. Passing an old concrete structure I had photographed dozens of times before, a deteriorating room sized stand that had once served as a base for some sort of tower back in the amusement park days, I noticed the most unusual combination of sun behind a semi-translucent bank of cloud. The strange appearance was helped by the fact I was wearing my honey tinted polarizing sunglasses, an effect I hoped the orange contrast filter would help me match on film. A small voice inside was protesting, as it usually does, at yet another photo of that old cement thing, but from this vantage point and half buried in ice as it was the shot would be unique and the voice was once again over ruled and I used up my remaining two shots on the roll.
The result is at the top of the post. It was better than what I imagined my little return visit would result in, and I think I like it more than anything I got the first time out with the RB, its full retinue of lenses and pretty much the whole day to shoot. Of the two frames I got only the first really caught the effect I was after. By the time I shot the second that just right blend of cloud transparency and sun was already disappearing. Oh and the other good news - no sign of light leaks.
In the end any sense that I had let any opportunity slip or lost any momentum was gone. Prospects for the rest of the winter still seem pretty bright. It remains to be seen of course, but whatever the case, I'll keep you posted.
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