All week, I've been sharing last Friday's adventure, when I left my house in the early morning hours to photograph the sunrise. My four-hour trek took me to Almonte, Carleton Place, and Perth.
Originally, I set out with one goal in mind: to photograph the waterfall in the centre of Almonte. But the excursion grew to take me further.
When I returned home and processed all of the photos, one image stood out above the others. It's the image that I had in my head before I set out, and it turned out exactly as I had imagined it. I didn't include it with the other posts but I'm sharing it today.
I saved the best for last.
Happy Friday!
I pulled into the vacant parking space, on Gore Street, in front of the TD Canada Trust. Nearly all of the parking spaces on the main street of Perth were vacant, but this was the last spot before the fire hydrant and the closest to the town hall without actually parking in front of the town hall.
I could clearly see the clock atop the historic building: it was just coming up on 6:30.
Cars and trucks were almost steady as drivers were passing through the core of the town along the Tay River. Gore Street is also Route 43, which connects the Trans-Canada Highway with the Eastern Ontario towns, through to Smiths Falls, Merrickville, Kemptville, Winchester, Alexandria, all the way up to Vankleek Hill, and finally to Hawkesbury, along the Ottawa River.
A few people were on the sidewalks, but too few to worry about social distancing. There was a far greater risk of being hit by a car while crossing the road than coming within 2 metres of another human being.
I was beginning to feel a bit fatigued so I knew this stop had to be short: no more than a half hour. I was now almost an hour away from home and the last thing I wanted was to be too tired to drive home.
Because I knew this town better than the previous two that I had already visited, I knew exactly where I wanted to go. From the town hall, I crossed the street and made my way toward the Crystal Palace, a small, glass and steel market area. There, a basin for the Tay River had three fountains that, to my delight, were running. I took a few photos and continued along the river.
A path led under Drummond Street and took me between the Tay and a legion hall, and to a narrow swing bridge that connected both sides of Beckwith Street. I photographed the bridge and decided to head back.
Once back at Drummond Street, I turned north, before the Crystal Palace, and followed another arm of the Tay, which flows past the public library and bends back toward Gore Street. I passed a riverside Mexican restaurant that used to be a Mexicali Rosa's. I had eaten there a few times before and wondered when my family and I would ever get to eat there again.
Just before the clock tower struck 7:00, I was making my way back to the Niro. I was tired and I wanted to go home.
The fastest route back home from Perth is to exit via North Street, which becomes Route 10, passing through Franktown and Richmond, before I can skirt along smaller country roads to take me back to Barrhaven.
I pulled into my driveway at about 7:50, almost exactly four hours after I had started my photo journey. Had this been a normal Friday, I could have started my workday as I usually do. But my company CEO gave everybody the day off, so I had the entire day ahead to myself. I took my camera to the basement, where my computers are set up, and downloaded my photos.
By 9:00, I was asleep in my chair.
Three towns in four hours. That has to be a record for me.
I passed a few farm vehicles, some transport trucks, and countless pickups. All of them were going in the opposite direction: north, toward Almonte.
A green barn roof reminded me that Jesus had died for my sins, or so the large white letters told me. I pressed my foot a little further on the pedal; with luck, the sunrise would meet me in Carleton Place.
I had only driven this route a couple of times before. The last time was a few years ago, when I had met with my photography meetup group for a night shoot of the starry sky, from the Mill of Kintail Conservation Area, northwest of Almonte. A social-media buddy of mine, and fellow photographer, Séb, and I ran into each other at the meetup and decided to go for drinks afterward, at St. James Gate Pub. I led the way but got a bit disoriented, and we ended up taking a roundabout way to get to the pub.
I couldn't afford any mistakes on my way, this time. The sun wasn't going to wait for me. I programmed Carleton Place City Hall into Waze, and the screen on my dashboard led the way.
Coming in from the north side of the Mississippi, I turned off Bridge Street just before I hit the river, onto Bell Street. Parking was prohibited so I turned onto James Street, made a three-point turn, and parked in a safe spot.
There aren't many good spots to photograph the town hall, on the opposite side of the river, that aren't either blocked by the dam or are on private property, but St. James Park ends just on the high part of the dam, and there's a part of the park where you can get a good view. Only, at this hour, automatic sprinklers were in full force, and it was impossible for me to stand there without becoming soaked in short order.
I did spy one spot, where a fence prohibits trespassers from climbing onto the dam, where a sprinkler was moving slower than all the others. While it did cover that area, I saw that I had enough time to move into that position, once the sprinkler moved on, take a few quick shots, and move away before the water returned.
I took two shots: one, I shared on Monday.
From there, I walked back to the road and made my way to the bridge that spans the river. And yes, my feet were soaked.
While the sun had already risen, it hadn't yet cleared the trees to the east, so I could still take advantage of sunrise shots.
Some of my best shots were taken along the northern shore, by the old house that was now a law firm. Two Parks Canada Muskoka chairs provided a fabulous view.
I returned to the Niro and decided to drive across the bridge, into the heart of Carleton Place's old town core. I parked along Bridge Street and took more random photos.
With the sun now well above the horizon and trees, my mission was accomplished. And yet, I was still not ready to head home.
While I had recorded some video in Almonte, I recorded nothing in Carleton Place, and I made the decision that I wasn't going to make a video for my vlog. Sitting back in my car, I deleted all but a couple of videos.
Where to go next? The decision was easy. I started the car and headed back along Bridge Street, back over the Mississippi and turned left, onto Townline Road West, which took me to Highway 7, the Trans-Canada, and continued west.
Though I was done with sunrise photos, it was still early in the morning. I only hoped that I could reach my next destination before the town became awake.
To be continued...
I pulled up across the street from the old post office—now the Café Postino—and checked the time. It wasn't quite 4:30 but already I could see light blue in the eastern sky. The streets were dark, lit only by warm lamps, but soon there would be enough daylight to see into the shadowy alleys.
I thought I might make a video about my adventure, create something for The Brown Knowser vlog. I had my new smartphone and a selfie stick, so it wouldn't be hard to do. All I had to do was think of something to say.
I made a brief recording from inside the Niro, explaining that I was in Almonte, in Mississippi Mills, to capture the sunrise as it rose over the falls that take up the centre of the small town. I recorded my feet as I exited the car and made my way to the back, where my camera gear was secured under the cargo area's netting.
As I took time-lapse photos of the old post office with my still camera, I captured the 'action' with video. I continued to record as I made my way down Mill Street, to Almonte Street, where a bridge spans the Mississippi River. While the odd pickup truck passed by, I felt for the most part completely alone.
I photographed the falls while I video-recorded myself taking photos. I wandered to the opposite side of Almonte Street, photographing the mill and the road that heads back up to where I started. I photographed the power station. By 5:00, the sky was in a full state of dawn, and in less than 30 minutes the sun would rise above the horizon. The sky was a pale blue, and it was at this point that I realized that I was done with the waterfall.
I worked my way back up Mill Street, stopping a couple of times to take photos. As I rounded the bend, where the Niro was parked, I came upon a young woman, standing on the sidewalk, looking like she was about to start a run. She saw me at the same time, and seeing my arms full of camera equipment, deemed I wasn't a threat. In unison, we said "Good morning," and continued about our business.
I took one last photo of the post office building before getting back into my car. I wasn't ready to go home yet: I still wanted to capture sunrise. Only, I no longer wanted to do it in Almonte.
I pulled out of my parking spot, made a three-point turn, and headed back down Mill Street, turning left, onto Almonte Street, and heading toward Route 29.
If luck served me well, I could still make the sunrise.
To be continued...
I wanted to see the sun rise, though I didn't know from where I wanted to see it.
At first, I thought of photographing the sun rising over Parliament Hill, from the Québec-side of the Ottawa River. The provincial borders had only reopened earlier in the week, and I hadn't been across the river since the second week of the shutdown, when I had arrived at the office, before 7 am, to retrieve some personal belongings and hightail it out of there before anyone else would arrive.
I thought it would be nice to be somewhere with a waterfall, where I could take long exposures to soften the cascade, but I didn't want to go to Hog's Back. I've been there, taking early-morning photos, far too often.
That's when the town of Almonte, in Mississippi Mills, came to mind. A river runs through the centre of town, down a series of waterfalls. I hadn't been there in a few years so I was due a visit.
The thing is, to get there before sunrise, I would have to leave the house early. Sunrise happens just before 5:30, and because Almonte is about 40 minutes away, I would have to leave the house no later than 4:30 so that I would have enough time to get there, park, walk to the falls, and set up my gear.
As when I used to get up early to go to the office, I laid out the next day's clothes in the bathroom and made sure I had everything I needed. The camera bag was packed and placed by the front door. Because I would be leaving the house so early, I left the car in the driveway so that the garage door wouldn't disturb anyone's slumber.
I got into bed by 10:00 and set my alarm for 4:00.
Unfortunately, with my head so full of ideas, I couldn't fall asleep. I tossed and turned, read, got up to drink water, and lay wide awake all night.
At 3:30, I decided that I should get up, lest fatigue hit me like a hammer and prevent me from hearing the alarm. At 10 minutes before 4, I hopped in the car and drove.
Traffic was practically non-existent. By 4:25, I was parked across from the old post office. A few pickup trucks roamed Main and Mill Streets, mostly occupied by labourers on their way to work. I sat in the car for a few minutes while I decided what I wanted to do, and then got out and grabbed my gear.
My first shots were of the post office building and the statue that honours James Naismith, the inventor of basketball, but I wandered down Mill Street, past the building for which the street was once named, and set up on the bridge over the Mississippi River, downstream from the falls.
By 5:00, I had all of the shots I wanted. It was still almost a half hour before sunrise.
I thought for a moment and headed straight back for the car. If I booted it, I could make it down Route 29 and into Carleton Place in time for sunrise.
When I had had my fill of this picturesque town, I was ready to move on but I didn't want to go home just yet. And so I jumped back in the car and headed further west to yet another lovely town: Perth.
It was in this town that my fatigue started catching up with me, and so before I became too tired to drive, I headed back home, pulling into my driveway almost exactly four hours after I had first set out. I was back in the house before anyone had arisen from bed.
After a quick bite of breakfast and a cup of coffee, I went down to the basement, where my office and home computers are set up, and downloaded my photos, beginning the work of post-processing.
Some time later, I fell asleep in my chair, where I slept deeply for more than two hours.
Over this week, I'll share my adventure—and more photos—in detail. Stay tuned.
I have my COVID-19 hair cut: my youngest daughter, who has cut my hair before, took the shears to me a few weeks ago. And while it's not perfect, I look better than my scruffy self before her handiwork.
When I'm out in public, I have a new look. But it's not just the haircut.
When I go out, I wear a mask. I don't do it, feeling that my freedom is being taken from me: I do it because I care about the health of other people.
If you can, wear a mask. There's no conspiracy about it. It merely shows that you care.
Happy Friday!
I doubt Queen Victoria would have minded the age of COVID. She didn't come across as a party girl.
She was never amused.
The only Vicki that I see these days is my next-door neighbour. That's not a complaint. Though, with the noise that I've made in my back yard, this weekend, with mowing the lawn and cranking the tunes as I weeded the back patio, while she tried to relax on her deck, I'm sure she was wishing for even greater social distancing.
Today is Victoria Day and whether you're a Vicki, Vicky, Tori, or whoever, I hope you're relaxing and maintaining physical distancing.
Victoria would approve.
They're not common in our neighbourhood.
I'm used to seeing chickadees, purple finches, house finches, starlings, grackles, and robins. Occasionally, a cardinal will make an appearance in our back yard, at the bird bath. Mourning doves are seen atop neighbour's houses, softly cooing.
Once, and only once, I spied cedar waxwings alight on a tree across from our community mailbox as I pulled up on my way home. Luckily, I had my camera in the passenger seat as readied to get out of my car.
This week, DW received a package at our doorstep and she was very excited. She had ordered a squirrel-proof bird feeder and was anxious to put it in our back yard. A quick trip to Costco netted her a massive back of bird seeds.
Later that day, as I was wrapping up my work day in my basement office, DW came down to chat with me, all the while looking out the small window that looks into our back yard. Mid-sentence, as we were discussing dinner plans, she turned and ran for the stairs. I looked out the window and saw two goldfinches at the feeder.
Although goldfinches are common in the Ottawa area and I have seen some in the fields that line the transitway that runs near our neighbourhood, I have never seen one in our back yard. And now we had two.
Both of my D-SLRs were on a table next to my desk. I grabbed my Nikon D7200, which had my 70-300mm lens, and followed DW.
Slowly and carefully, I opened our back door. DW came up behind me with her mirrorless camera in hand, her telephoto lens attached. With both birds still at the feeder, we slowly crept to our patio table.
One of the birds, not trusting our good intentions, took off. The other, cautious, constantly watching us, remained. As soon as we sat at the table, he resumed eating.
DW's camera was in silent mode: the mirror in my camera was much louder, by far, but didn't seem to faze this hungry bird. Though, he did look straight at us with every bite.
DW also set up a hummingbird feeder. Stay tuned.
Happy Friday!
On the weekends, DW and I like to stray from our neighbourhood and go for walks where we have a strong probability of avoiding people. And those people we encounter share our efforts in maintaining safe, physical distancing.
A few weeks ago, we parked at the Central Experimental Farm and walked to Dow's Lake, via the Arboretum. We stopped every so often to capture the spring flowers that were blooming under the bare trees. I shared some of those images a couple of Photo Fridays ago.
As we got to Dow's Lake, we decided that we'd go as far as the Parks Canada Muskoka chairs that overlook the lake, looking across to the Arboretum and pavilion. These red chairs can be spotted along various Parks Canada venues: we had also spotted them along Lake Ontario and along the Rideau River, as well as in Montreal.
Being the time of COVID, we weren't looking to sit in the chairs: we simply wanted to use them to indicate our turning point.
As we approached, it appeared that someone had recently sat in the chairs. A small, empty bottle of Johnny Walker Red Label Whisky lay underneath one. "Somebody was having a party," I told DW, adding, "No accounting for taste."
I like single-malt whisky. Notably, from Islay.
I also noticed that a couple of the chairs themselves had that I first thought were notices: giant stickers on the sides. When I looked closer, I discovered that those stickers didn't belong. They were actually labels, meticulously peeled from beer cans.
Tooth and Nail Brewery, to be specific.
"I guess someone had taste, after all," I said.
That said, DW and I both agreed that it wasn't cool to litter and deface the park chairs. Just because we're in unprecedented times doesn't give us rights to be assholes.
