Photo Friday: Old Barrhaven School

I saw the school earlier in the day and knew that I wanted to use it as my Photo of the Day.

But not now, I told myself. Later, after the sun sets.

I live only about five minutes away. A very short drive from one of Barrhaven's most-recognizable landmarks. The 1906 public school is probably one of the oldest structures in the area.

I wondered if it was lit up at night. Though I've driven past it countless times, I've never noticed it after dark, so perhaps, I told myself, it wasn't.

The last time I tried to shoot a darkened building at night, I used the headlights of my vehicle to illuminate it. It wasn't the best solution, but it worked.

Ironically, it was an old school, too.

I headed out just after 8, an hour or so after the sun had set. The school, now a community centre, was not lit up. I pulled up to the entrance, positioned my car toward the front door, and set up my equipment.

The shot was awful. Only the building below the red brick was illuminated and the front door was totally washed out. Because the roadway on which I was stopped was a ringed driveway, with high curbs, I couldn't back my car up to cast a wider beam of light. I turned off the car and was plunged into darkness.

I readjusted my camera and shot again. Direct headlights, I discovered, weren't required: instead, the glow from the shopping plaza, across the street, and lights of cars that passed on Strandherd Drive were all that was needed.

Happy Friday!


 

Thoughts as Images

I've been in a funk, this week, too much on my mind but too tired, at the end of the day, to put anything down in writing. Assuming, of course, I could formulate those thoughts into words.

Thoughts can be fluid, can flow through your mind as images and emotions. Colourful in your head, but flat, rough pencil scribbles when you try to put some order to them, try to make sense.

I've had a lot of these thoughts as I've wandered, capturing my daily photos. And while I can't articulate those thoughts, I can show you how I formulated images while those thoughts preoccupied my brain.

Where Rue Martel and Rue Rosenes meet, a short path leads to Sentier des Voyageurs, also known as Route Verte 1, a hiking and cycling path that consists of about 5,000 kilometres of trails that run from the westernmost regions of West Québec, along the Ottawa and St.Lawrence rivers, and cover the Gaspé Peninsula, Saguenay River and Lac Saint Jean region, and even the Madeleine Islands.

Earlier, this summer, as I explored Griffintown, in Montreal, with DW and my buddy, Stu, we walked part of the Route Verte 1 along the Lachine Canal.

But where Martel and Rosenes meet, in the Deschênes neighbourhood of Aylmer, Route Verte 1 passes the Ottawa River where the rapids meet the ruins of the Deschênes Dam.

I was inspired to go there by my photo buddy, James Peltzer, who was there two nights previous. While I didn't want to copy his work, I couldn't help but go near sunset, hoping to capture similar light.

I didn't have the courage to forge the shallow but swift-moving water between the river's edge and the tiny island before the dam, nor did I want to risk climbing the concrete remains to get high above.

My mind was flooded with various thoughts, but it didn't stop me from capturing images.

Without more clumsy words, here's what I saw.

Wordless Wednesday: Quyon

Photo Friday: Dick Pic

"You can't photograph this building without permission," the pimply faced, barely adolescent, bespectacled security guard said, approaching me from what was obviously a break, with the extra-large, disposable soda cup as evidence. With his shirt in desperate need of an iron and in greater need of being tucked in, it was hard to tell if he was serious.

"Of course I can photograph the building," was my response. It was the World Exchange Plaza: its tall, glass curved lines have been photographed countless times. My words were blatantly contradictory but my tone was soft, even, carrying only the slightest weight that I was trying to correct the young lad.

"No, you can't take professional photographs of this building."

"I'm not a professional," I assured him, "trust me. I'm strictly amateur."

"I mean, you can't take photos of this building with a professional camera." He was beginning to sound frustrated.

"This isn't a professional camera," I explained. My D-SLR is an intermediate-level camera, and at that moment I was using my 10-20mm extra-wide lens. "What constitutes a professional camera and what makes you think this is one? Is it that it's on a tripod?" I had just mounted my camera on my tripod because it was dark. It was low to the ground, only a foot or so high, and the camera was tilted skyward.

"You can't take a photo of this building with a professional camera," he repeated.

"So, if I was a professional and I was taking a photo of the building with my smart phone, which has excellent resolution, by the way, you would not have approached me?"

I could see that he was beginning to lose patience, but I continued, "Did you know that the laws for photography, in Ontario, allow me to capture anything that is viewable in public? So, did you know that saying that I cannot take a photo of this building is false?"

I looked around our surroundings: I was in the outdoor, open space that faces Metcalfe Street. I was almost under a small, sheltered area of what looked like slabs of rock, could have been some sort of stage. The sidewalk for Metcalfe Street was less than 10 feet behind me as I faced the entrance to the building. I've always thought of this as a public space, belonging to the city, but perhaps it was part of the World Exchange Plaza. What I saw as city space could have been, technically, private property.

This is what he was getting at, I realized, though he only seemed focused on me not being allowed to photograph the building with what he considered to be a professional camera.

"Are you trying to say that I'm on private property?" I asked. He nodded. "Then that's the information you needed to convey. Your best and clearest approach would have been to inform me that I was standing on private property and that the management's policy was for photographers to obtain permission to set up a tripod to photograph the building. It has nothing to do with the quality of a camera, does it?"

His change in expression indicated that he also realized that he was approaching the situation from the wrong angle. "Yes, you need permission to photograph the building from here."

"So, you have no issue if I step back 10 feet and shoot from the same angle, but not this spot?"

"Yes."

"And knowing that I'm going to essentially that the same shot, you're still going to make me move my equipment a short distance because...?"

"Those are the rules," he finished, taking a sip of his soda.

"Very well," I sighed, "I'll follow your rules and take my non-professional photograph with my amateur camera, 'cos you need to enforce your rules and I want to take my shot." I picked up my camera and tripod, and decided to walk up the stairs, where they led upwards, to Queen Street. "Have a nice evening, Richard," I said as I started to walk away.

"My name's not Richard," he said.

"Really?" I questioned, "Because you seem like a Dick to me."

Higher up, at the intersection of Metcalfe and Queen, the angle seemed better to me.

Thanks, Richard.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Picking Up a Stray

Last weekend, Ottawa's newest craft brewery celebrated its opening in Orleans with a party that included live music, pizza, and even a visit from the mayor.

Oh, yeah, and there was also some pretty awesome beer.

On tap at Stray Dog Brewing Company's grand opening were six ales for tasting, plus a limited amount of a variation on one of those brews. I tried the Summer Slam, a cucumber-infused wheat ale that really refreshed, and a bold New England-styled IPA, Shaggin Wagon, that had lots of powerful hops with nice apricot and mango notes. But my favourite of the beers that I tried at the brewery was the Normandie Saison, which was a classic farmhouse ale with flinty, peppery flavours and a great body.

I really wished that the saison was available in cans. I hope they put it in portable containers in the future.

All three of those ales were available only at the brewery, which is quite the drive from someone who lives in the Barrhaven area. It's not often that I drive out to Trim Road, in the east end of Orleans.

Bearded brewer, Marc, who was out there, mingling with the crowd, gave me a small sample of his Bleu Nuit, which is essentially the Normandie Saison, brewed with blueberries that he sourced from Costco.

Hey, they're good blueberries.

If he puts that in cans, I'll be happy to make the drive out again soon.

I did purchase a six-pack of the beer that was available in cans, and that brings me to today's review. Let's take a close look at the ales that I thought were good, really good, and so-so.

This One California Common (5.2% ABV)

Appearance: deep amber to caramel, with a creamy, beige head that retained much of its solid cap.

Nose: a malty caramel with faint hints of toasted oak. There was something that almost opened my sinus passages as I breathed it in. It reminded me of eucalyptus, though the can says "mint." I didn't get mint.

Palate: comforting malt and a hint of gentle hops. A medium finish left traces of oak that lingered at the back of my throat.

Overall impression: This One is easy-drinking, an ale that you would want to reach for when you're enjoying a cheesy, bacon-topped pizza (I had that at the grand opening and it was delicious!). Expect to see This One on the shelves of the LCBO soon.

Beer O'Clock rating: 3.5

Anytime Pale Ale (5% ABV)

Appearance: an amber-orange with a foamy, off-white head that settled to a thin cap.

Nose: orange citrus

Palate: my first mouthful presented a sharp, powerful bitterness that came off almost as sour, to the point where I thought there was a fault with the beer. I decided to let it sit for a few minutes and tried again. The ale opened up and the bitterness subsided, and as I continued to empty my glass, it began to taste like a typical pale ale, but there was something more to it, something that I couldn't put my finger on. Something that wasn't quite right.

Overall impression: I wanted to like this beer but there was something that didn't seem to go with the flavours that I expected. I didn't detect a flaw; rather, it was like the pale ale was trying to be something more but wasn't quite there.

Beer O'Clock rating: 2.5

One Hop Wonder: Mosaic New England Pale Ale (5.7% ABV)

Appearance: a cloudy orange with an off-white head that quickly settled to a dense lace.

Nose: fragrant hops and orange citrus. It's a gorgeous aroma that had me constantly sticking my sniffer in the glass.

Palate: bold orange and tropical fruit flavours. I can never tell the difference between a west-coast style ale and an east-coast style. The hops are aggressive but not overpowering. It's like summer in a glass.

Overall impression: having tried the Shaggin' Wagon at the grand opening, I would have liked to have tried Mosaic at the same time, as I found their flavours very similar. A great balance of hops and fresh fruit flavours, Mosaic is a beer I could drink over and over again.

Beer O'Clock rating: 4

If their opening lineup is any indication of the success that the folks at Stray Dog are going to have, they are in for exciting times. Stray Dog is definitely worth the drive out to Orleans.

Cheers!

Wordless Wednesday: Canadensis