Shorts on a Line

Now that the Photo Synthesis exhibit has wrapped up, I'm already thinking about the photos that I would want to show at the next show.

If I ever have another exhibit, that is.

I learned a lot from Photo Synthesis. I learned what size of photo seems to be more popular. Though one of my larger pictures did sell, neither of my largest, 24 x 36 canvas prints, sold. Most of the framed prints that were most successful were 8 x 10, or smaller.

Nature subjects sold better than did subjects of city scenes or candid people shots. Though I did sell my closeup of the waterfront buildings in Porto, Portugal, most photos that had people in the frame did not sell.

I think that if I were to select photos again, I'd go for some of my bird photos and some of my flower shots. I'd offer some of my landscape nature images. While I've learned that a good photo should tell a story, many photos in the exhibit that screamed storytelling remained unsold at the end of the last day.

Photo Synthesis was a good first show. Given that the Arbor Gallery is in a remote town, I'm surprised I sold any of my works. I did speak to a lot of people who were interested in my photos and asked me about the stories behind them, or how I came upon the photo opportunity, but in the end those curious folks didn't make any purchases.

That's okay.

I learned a lot and will have a new understanding if I'm ever to do this again.

When the doors closed on the gallery and my remaining prints were loaded in my car, one of the other photographers (who's also an old friend) and the exhibit's curator (a new friend), both who live in Vankleek Hill, invited me for a pint at the town's tavern. We sat at a table on the patio, out behind the tavern.

My friend, Greg, noticed a clothes line, beyond the patio and high above, with two pairs of shorts hanging. He pointed it out to me and said that it was too bad that we didn't have our cameras with us. The shorts would make for an interesting shot.

I pulled out my smartphone and captured a quick shot. I then ran the image through my phone's photo-editing software, Snapseed, and in less than a minute showed my work.

"Should I have it printed?" I asked.

Well, should I?

(No. The answer is no.)

Happy Monday!

Shallow

When DW and I go for a nature walk, I almost always bring my Nikon D7200 D-SLR with my 70–300mm lens attached, just in case we spy a bird or other creature and I have an opportunity to snap a photo of it.

At it's maximum zoom level and with a cropped sensor, that lens is effectively a 450mm lens with a nine-times magnification. It's the most powerful lens/camera combination I have in terms of zooming in on something.

It's not the fastest lens that I have by any stretch of the imagination. At that focal length, the widest aperture that I have for it is f/5.6. And with that magnification, the depth of field at that aperture setting is pretty shallow.

I don't care. When I'm looking to photograph a bird or other creature, I'm not interested in what's in the background.

The last couple of times that DW and I have been out, we've made our way to Fletcher Wildlife Gardens, just off Prince of Wales Drive, across from the Central Experimental Farm and next to the Arboretum. As I had mentioned in Monday's blog post, the flowers in the gardens at this time of year are spectacular.

This week's Wordless Wednesday also highlighted some flowers from Fletcher.

Because I've only been carrying my D7200 with my 70–300mm lens when we've visited these gardens, I've had to stand at least two metres from my subject to get that big, slow lens to focus on anything. And I've found that when I want to zoom right up on a flower, I need to stand even further back unless I'm trying to capture a flower that's further in the ravine.

I've been shooting flowers for decades. In fact, when I had purchased my first SLR, my Minolta X-700, back in 1986, the first photo that I ever took with it was a flower in my mother's garden.

But when I looked at my first few photos that I shot at Fletcher Wildlife Gardens, a couple of weeks ago, I really liked the results that I was getting with this camera setup. At 300mm and f/5.6, the background was all but obliterated. The heads of the flowers were the only clear spot in the shot.

If the background was a complex assortment of other flowers, the bokeh effect seemed heightened.

DW and I returned to the gardens again, last Saturday, hoping to capture photos of birds. With none presenting themselves among the flowers, I turned my attention to the flowers instead, zooming in at maximum magnification and the widest aperture, capturing beautiful flowers with the shallowest of focal depth.

It's like I've rediscovered photographing flowers. And now, I want a bigger telephoto lens with a wider aperture... (I really need a benefactor!).

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Hail Saison

One of my favourite beer styles, over the past few years, has been the modest, unassuming saison. These farmhouse brews, which originated in Belgium, have a lot of characteristics that I like in a beer: light, fizzy, and fruity, they are perfect on a hot summer's day.

They also have added characteristics that I like. There's a mineral quality, almost flinty, with a spice that just gives me a comforting feel when I'm sitting back and sipping one.

So when I saw one being offered when I visited a Toronto brewery, last month, I had to add it to my mix.

Blood Brothers Brewing was founded in 2016 by Brayden and Dustin Jones, and I discovered that their taproom is just a short, five-minute drive from where my kid lives. Why I hadn't visited sooner, I don't know.

Though I picked up a good mix of IPA-styled brews, I was most interested in trying the saison. And after chatting with Dan, who was behind the counter, I was comped a couple of small cans that I can't wait to crack open and share my views.

Thanks, Dan!

Let's take a look at this saison.

Hail Saison — saison with Hallertau Blanc and Wai-iti (4.5% ABV)
Blood Brothers Brewing
Toronto ON

Appearance: pours a slightly unfiltered, effervescent, deep-apricot gold, with a generous, foamy-white head that settles to a dense lace.

Nose: banana and pear that unmistakably cries saison. I love it.

Palate: there's a tartness that hits the mouth straight-on. It's not common in the saisons that I've had before but it's not uncommon in a saison, though I was not expecting to pucker like I did. But after the initial sour shock, subsequent sips gave it the tartness of lemonade, backed with the flinty mineral-ness that I did expect. The finish is short and cleansing, but I didn't pick up much in the way of spice.

Not that that's a deal-breaker or anything.

Overall impression: for anyone who's read my past beer reviews, you'll know that I'm not a big fan when it comes to sour ales. There are a handful that I have liked, but it's not a style that I'll reach for. The initial sourness of this saison threw me a curve but as time went on and the glass went down, Hail Saison grew on me. It jabs you in the mouth with a tart citrus but then the flintiness reminds you that it's a saison, and the fruit soothes you as it goes down your throat.

The short, clean finish resets your mouth and you're ready to start the flavour exploration all over again.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺 + .5

While my last visit to Toronto was my first visit to Blood Brothers, it certainly won't be my last. Next time, I'll plan to stay and try some of their food, and I'll likely come home with another armful of brew.

You can order Hail Saison online for delivery or, if you're in the GTA, why not pay them a visit in person? Tell Dan that I sent you.

Cheers! 

Nature's Cakepops

Barred Owl

The lady didn't have to say anything more. We knew where to look.

On Saturday, DW got us up early to head out on a photo shoot. I was feeling like crap, with a lot of discomfort in my lower abdomen, but after some coaxing, I finally agreed to go.

Lately, we've been visiting Fletcher Wildlife Garden, near the Central Experimental Farm and the Arboretum. At this time of year, the wild flowers are really in bloom and there are myriad birds fluttering about. We've already been there twice and I've shared some of the flowers in a recent Wordless Wednesday post.

I'll have more to say about the photos at Fletcher's on Friday.

DW and I thought that if we went to the wildlife gardens early enough, there would be few people there, if any, and that the birds might be more active. We were right about there being few people: in fact, no one else was there when we arrived, shortly after 7. But the birds weren't fluttering about as we had hoped.

We heard birds in distant trees but saw nothing near the flower-filled ravine.

We wandered to the back of the gardens, where a feeder was set up, but the birds that we saw were common: red-winged blackbirds; sparrows; chickadees; grackles; and downy woodpeckers.

At least the flowers cooperated.

As we were about to leave, a woman with a mirrorless camera and a huge telephoto lens showed up. We explained to her that we had been at the gardens for about a half an hour and hadn't seen a single bird near the ravine.

She said that she had just come from Mud Lake, about a 20-minute drive away. She also said that there were a few common birds and the usual ducks and geese, but that she also saw a barred owl.

"Was it along the trail or along Cassels Street?" I asked. She didn't seem to know the name of the road but when she said it was the road that led to the water filtration plant, she didn't need to say anything more. We were talking about the same place.

I had photographed an owl along that stretch of road last year but never saw it again. Others had told me that they had found owls in that spot, too, but that they weren't always there.

DW and I decided to jump in our car and make our way to Mud Lake. It was worth a shot.

We pulled off to the side of Cassels Street between the trailhead to the lake and the water filtration plant, and crossed the road. I could see a gap in the woods where people had made their way in the past. Sure enough, another person was tucked inside the growth.

"Owl?" I said as he emerged and saw me. He was empty-handed.

"Yes," he said, "but it's tucked away in the trees. He's not easy to see."

I could see the owl from where we were standing, but barely. It was mid-way up a tree, beyond a wire fence and wetland. We could only get so far in the growth. I ventured a bit eastward, along the fence, and came to an area where only a few thin branches were blocking a clear view of the owl. I took a few snaps and the shots weren't bad.

I carefully and quietly pressed on, through more growth, and even though I was getting a bit farther from the owl, I noticed that I had an even clearer, head-on vantage.

Here's the shot I took.

DW followed me and got some shots, too, before we turned to head out. The man, who had left the area after we had spoken, returned with a Canon camera with a huge telephoto lens. He went straight to the first spot but I pointed out where we had been able to capture a less-obstructed photo. We bid each other a good day before DW and I made our way back to our car.

Two photo venues. Two very different experiences.

Happy Tuesday!

Wasting Time

Image: Openverse

I really don't like going to the doctor.

I have to be pretty sick to see my GP. For example, a couple of years ago, after a camping trip with DW to Killarney Provincial Park, I developed a fever and felt under the weather. I thought I might have caught a bought of COVID—I hadn't caught it yet and even though I was always wearing masks when in public, it wasn't impossible—but several tests came back negative. After almost 10 days, when I seemed to be getting worse and I discovered a red mark on my leg, I finally went to the hospital, suspecting that I had Lyme disease.

Ten days of feeling awful before I had it treated.

I was reluctant when I went to see my doctor, a few weeks ago, because of an acute pain on the lower-right side of my abdomen. DW was concerned that it was my appendix, even though I didn't tick all of the boxes for that diagnosis, but we thought that we were better to be safe than sorry.

Turns out that I had appendicitis. And an abdominal infection.

I didn't have the surgery to remove the appendix because the surgeon said that she'd have to remove more than just my small, unnecessary appendage. She'd have to remove some of my intestines, including about half of my colon.

I didn't like that idea.

So we treated the infection with strong antibiotics and made plans to meet afterward to see what's what.

But I couldn't get an appointment with the surgeon until August 17, and that has me concerned. After a couple of days of having finished my antibiotics, I feel a dull throb in my entire lower abdomen. Indeed, pressing on my gut feels like pressing on the leather headrest of my car seat. There's a bit of give but it's mostly firm, as though I'm clenching my stomach muscles.

If I really push near my appendix, the pain is acute but my appendix doesn't really hurt on it's own.

Because the surgeon had given me her phone number and e-mail address, I wrote to her about what diagnostic scans or tests I should have before our meeting. In her response, she simply said that we would discuss those when we met, in mid-August.

I don't think so.

I don't like going to a doctor unless we have solid plans in place. When I suspected that I might have Lyme disease, we went through the symptoms and I was promptly prescribed the medication to treat it. In fact my doctor sent the prescription straight to the closest pharmacy, and by the time I got there, it was ready to pick up.

I don't want to go to the surgeon empty-handed. To me, it's a waste of both our time, talking about the discomfort I'm in, not knowing if the antibiotics have done their job. I don't want an appointment that will only have me going for new tests and then having to return for another appointment to discuss the test results.

So, I've made an appointment with my GP to let her know how I feel and to get her to order the tests shortly in advance of my appointment with the surgeon. When I meet with the surgeon, she'll know exactly what's going on with my insides. She'll be able to look and we can then book a date for the surgery.

No wasting time.

In a way, I find August 17 to be too far away for someone who was diagnosed with appendicitis on July 5 and who would have had his appendectomy that day, had the CT scan showed the surrounding infection.

If they thought the appendix needed to come out that day, why the delay? And why wouldn't the surgeon want the diagnostics as soon as possible?

I haven't told the surgeon that I'm going through my GP ahead of our appointment. She'll just receive any tests a day or two ahead of our appointment and we'll go forward from there.

In a way, I wish something dramatic would happen sooner, like the abdominal pain becoming acute and chronic, or that I develop a fever, in which case I was told not to wait and to get back to the hospital right away.

The only thing I hate more than doctor's appointments is having an appointment that wastes everybody's time.

Weekend Plans

Another weekend is fast upon us. Is it me or does 2023 seem to be going by so quickly? It's hard to believe that we're approaching the end of July.

I hope the coming weekend brings you a good balance of productivity and relaxation. I truly hope you find joy over the next few days (and always, of course).

If you don't have any plans for the weekend and you live somewhere between Ottawa and Montreal, might I suggest that you take a day trip to Vankleek Hill, a short detour off the highway that joins these two major Canadian cities?

My Photo Synthesis exhibit is still running strong. Photographs from three Vankleek Hill artists and me show a unique perspective of the world around us, from a cat sitting on a bicycle, a statue blended into waves on water, flowers and birds, to a lone woman walking on a New York City subway platform, the exhibit at the Arbor Gallery is a great collection of eclectic images.

If you're up for a road trip, get to Vankleek Hill for lunch time and stop at The Broken Kettle for delicious sandwiches, lovely pastries and treats, and tasty coffee. From there, drive or even walk (it's less than five minutes on foot) to the gallery, on Home Avenue.

Next to the gallery is the Higginson Tower, an historical landmark that you can climb to gain a unique perspective of your own.

After your visit to Arbor Gallery, head over to Beau's Brewery and pick up a pint or six pack. If you're up for a scenic drive back to Ottawa, take some of the county roads that head west, passing by farms where their silos are painted with various artwork. Take highway 17 through Alfred, Plantagenet, Clarence-Rockland, and follow the Ottawa River back to the city.

If you're heading back to Montreal, head north to Hawkesbury (it's a pretty little town, too) and then take county road 4, following the river toward Voyageur Provincial Park, and then hook back up with the 417.

Photo Synthesis runs until Sunday, July 30. On the last day, the photographers will be there to close out the exhibit.

So... what are your weekend plans?

Happy Friday!

Goin' Nowhere

DW and I have cancelled vacation plans only twice in the 34 years that we've been together.

Actually, scratch that: we've only cancelled vacation plans one time. The other time, our plans were cancelled for us.

In 2020, we had plans to see Belgium, the Netherlands, and Germany. We had our flights booked and all of our accommodation arranged. We booked early to ensure that we'd get to stay exactly where we wanted and when we wanted, and early booking got us a fantastic rate on our flights.

And then COVID happened.

We held onto our reservations because we didn't know how long the pandemic would last. Our trip was in September and we naively figured that life could be back to normal by then.

It was the airline that cancelled our flight and provided a refund. Luckily, we were then able to cancel our hotel reservations without penalty. As soon as the pandemic was over, we told ourselves, we would reschedule this trip.

It's still on our radar but it's been pushed back. Maybe next year.

We have travelled since restrictions have been lifted. We've gone to Cuba and we've visited Mexico twice since 2021, and of course we had our big trip to Portugal last autumn.

This fall, we had made plans to take my parents to Italy. My mother has wanted to see Tuscany for years and said that she was tempted to tag along in 2009, when DW and I took our kids.

San Gimignano, 2009.

DW and I love to plan for travel, so right away we scouted out towns to visit. Because we had already been to Tuscany a couple of times, we didn't want to repeat our vacation but we did place a few must-see places that appealed to my mom. Florence is a city that I'd never get tired of seeing and it was a non-negotiable destination for my folks. They had also fallen in love with my photos and our description of San Gimignano, so we planned to return to this small hill town.

But DW and I wanted to see Milan, Verona, and some of the other small towns in northern Italy, so we booked a place in Bologna, from where we could branch out to all of these places. We also wanted to see the Amalfi Coast, so we booked a nice villa south of Naples.

We held off on booking flights because we wanted to see if rates dropped, but our itinerary was getting fleshed out.

It seemed, though, that the closer we got to solidifying our plans, the more anxious my parents got. My father has a concerning problem with one of his knees and my mom has trouble when she walks a fair distance or climbs stairs.

I wish she had tagged along in 2009, when it would have been easier for her to get around.

I'm in no way blaming my folks for bowing out. If I had mobility issues (and trust me, I know what it's like to deal with pain in the feet), I'd be leery of wanting to be somewhere that requires walking any distance or involved climbing and descending.

We accepted my parents' decision to cancel their trip to Italy but DW and I kept our accommodation reservations open. Just because my folks couldn't go, it didn't meant that we couldn't.

This week, we cancelled our reservations. Italy is officially off for this year.

In March, our furnace died and we were forced to replace it. I mean, we live in one of the coldest capital cities in the world: we can't go without heat. It was an expense that we hadn't anticipated but we were fortunate enough that we could pay for it and still have cash available for vacations.

But at the end of May, when our air conditioning unit of more than 23 years packed it in, we started to feel the squeeze. We went for more than a month without cool air while we evaluated our expenses and did research on whether to replace our old AC with a new one or to upgrade to a heat pump, which costs about twice the price as a conventional air conditioner.

We finally decided to go the route of the heat pump because government rebates brought it down to within a thousand dollars of a conventional AC, and we figured that after a few years the savings in energy efficiency would make up for that price difference, after rebate.

The problem is that as soon as you qualify for the rebate, it can take about six months to see the money. So, we're now cash-strapped for the rest of the year.

Any kind of air travel is out of the question for 2023. It's not my folks who need to bow out of going to Italy, it's us.

Thankfully, we went to Mexico in January, and thankfully, our upcoming trip to Costa Rica, next January, is already mostly paid for.

The thing is, I have three weeks of vacation to use up this year. I now have to figure out how I'm going to spend the time without spending bucks.

I need to get away from Ottawa, so we'll likely visit friends who live far away and who we haven't seen since before the pandemic. Apart from that, we're going nowhere.

Happy Thursday!

To the End of the World

It's taken me long enough but I've finally finished creating all of my Portugal videos.

When I created my video of our visit to the neighbourhood of Belém, in the west end of Lisbon, I wasn't sure that I would have enough video footage to make something watchable, but the more I looked at what I had, the more I thought that there was, indeed, enough content to make the video worthwhile.

With our day trip to Cascais, however, I was sure that I had even less footage.

We had actually visited this small coastal city early in our stay in Lisbon, making use of the transit cards that we had charged up pretty much as soon as we landed in Portugal. We chose to head to Cascais on a day when many of the Lisbon museums were closed. We wanted to see this popular tourist town but we also wanted to go beyond, to Cabo da Roca, the westernmost point in continental Europe.

I wrote about our day last October.

I was pretty sure that I had only a bit of video footage, as I had only covered our walk along the coastline, a bit of our lunch, and a bunch of video while we rode some bikes. At Cabo da Roca, I had managed to capture a bit of video of an unfolding emergency, but I didn't want to dwell on it. That wasn't our story to tell.

I captured some video around the cliffside and near the marker that indicated the westernmost point, and a bit from a hike along one of the trails, but that was it for Cabo da Roca.

We bought some cod cakes for dinner and I recorded some of our interaction with our server, but that was pretty much it for our so-called trip to the 'end of the world.'

I procrastinated while putting this video together but in the end, I think that taking my time allowed me to be picky about what to show. As the shortest of all of my Portuguese vacation videos, it falls in at just under six minutes.

Have a look.

What do you think? If you enjoy my videos, please give them a Thumbs Up and subscribe to my YouTube channel.

Happy Wednesday!

Eyes on the Road

In January, when Kid 1 was heading back to school in the GTA, DW and I agreed to let her take our CR-V to make it easy for our daughter to commute between campus and the house where she was living for the semester.

She could have used public transit to get from her rental place and the campus but it would mean that she'd have to take a bus that passed by the end of her street, which took her to a GO train station, take a train to another station that was a couple of kilometres from campus, and take another bus that would carry her the rest of the way to school.

The whole one-way trip would take Kid 1 close to an hour to complete, assuming that the buses ran on time. By driving herself to campus, the whole trip would take about 15 to 20 minutes, depending on traffic along the QEW.

DW and I didn't really need two vehicles. We both work from home and if we did leave the house, we usually went out together. Any time we needed to get to an appointment or run a quick errand, the other of us was content to stay at home.

Because of the high number of bonehead drivers in the GTA, we felt confident that the CR-V was a safe vehicle for Kid 1. But we also wanted to add a layer of security by installing a dash cam before she set out.

A friend who also lives in the GTA had told us that there were a number of reports where someone would back their vehicle into the front of a car (usually, one that had a young female driver) and then try to scam them, saying that the young driver had rear-ended them. A camera would settle that argument.

Thankfully, the camera saw no action the entire time that Kid 1 had the vehicle. The camera runs every time the CR-V is driven but we've never had to look at the recorded footage. And because the camera is hidden behind the rear-view mirror, you can't even tell that the camera is there.

Ever since we've installed the camera, I've always thought that we should have one in our Niro, too. DW and I make several trips to the GTA each year, not only to see Kid 1 but to visit Kid 2, who lives in Toronto. We also take the Niro when we head out with our kayaks and on the few camping trips we've done.

We love our Niro and thought we'd add that same level of security that we've placed on the CR-V. So last week, during Amazon's Prime Days, I found a good deal on a dash cam. After watching a few YouTube reviews, I pulled the trigger.

This dash-cam deal came with two cameras: a 4K camera for the front and a 1080p camera for the rear window. Installing the forward-facing camera was easy, since I had watched several videos for installing the camera on the CR-V and considered myself a pro.

The rear camera took some additional effort to install, as I had to remove some casing around the rear-centre brake light and run the cable through holes in the metal. But I was able to string the cable under moldings and you can't see any in the passenger compartment, except for where the cable extends a couple of inches from the molding to the cameras.

Within an hour, both cameras were in place and configured.

That evening, I went for a short drive around the neighbourhood to check the quality of the video. Unlike the camera that we set up in the CR-V, the cameras in the Niro connect to my smartphone through WiFi. (To retrieve footage from the CR-V, we have to extract the SD card and plug it into our computer.)

I was pretty happy with the footage that I captured in the Niro. It was blue hour and the detail in both cameras was pretty clear. At traffic lights, I could easily read the license plates of the cars in front of me and from behind. When the cars were in motion, the plates were more of a challenge to read but everything else was sharp, even when I zoomed in on a car while I was reviewing the video.

It would be pretty easy to see who was in the wrong, in the case of an accident.

But with any luck, we'll never need the cameras.

What about you? Do you have dash cams? Have you ever needed them? What do you think of dash cams? Leave a comment.

Happy Tuesday!

New Threads

One of the things that saddened me about leaving Twitter, last November, is that I was going to miss communicating with people with whom I had made connections over the dozen years that I had been on that platform.

Some of them had become real-life friends and I was going to miss keeping up-to-date on their daily musings.

When I moved over to Mastodon, however, I was pleased to find that many of these friends were also on this federated platform, and we continued our conversations as per usual. I also made some new virtual friends, and for the past nine months or so, I've really enjoyed this algorithm-free environment.

When I discovered that Twitter hadn't actually closed my account, as I had requested, I decided that I would use it to post announcements of my latest blog entries. I didn't voice any other thoughts or opinions, though every once and a while I would 'like' a friend's post if it showed up immediately in my feed.

I was done with scrolling in Twitter.

The day after Threads was launched, I opened an account. Being an Instagram user, the process was pretty simple and I was quickly able to connect with friends that I follow on Instagram who had also opened a Threads account.

Easy-peasy.

I also noticed that there were a lot of my Twitter friends who had joined this new Meta platform and I was happy to reconnect. Not all of my old Twitter buddies have joined Threads but I'm hopeful that I'll find them here eventually.

Mastodon is still my main platform. Because it's not exclusive to residing on a smartphone (I have a Mastodon page that is a permanent tab on my laptop's browser window), I interact on that platform more than anywhere else. It's the only place where I post a random photo of the day (taken from my online library by literally spinning the scroll bar and stopping on a random picture).

There are also posts that I publish to Mastodon and then copy that post to Threads. If you follow me on both platforms, you'll see a bit of duplication. I hope you don't mind.

And as of the one-week milestone of joining Threads, I've stopped using Twitter altogether. No blog post announcements. No peeking at posts in my immediate thread. I might check my account once a week (I haven't done so since last Thursday) to see if anyone has written specifically to me but I feel that by the end of July, I'll likely attempt to close the account again, this time hoping my request is fulfilled.

If not, I could probably throw barbs at Musk. Bruise his ego. Maybe then they'll close my account for good.

How about you? Have you tried Threads? What do you think? Leave a comment. Better yet, follow me at @brownknowser.

Happy Monday!

Near Miss

I've always liked the expression "near miss." It rolls off the tongue but it's just so wrong.

If you've nearly missed something, doesn't that mean you've hit it? Shouldn't the term be "near hit"?

Last week, DW and I took a short walk to get out of the house. With my appendicitis still raging, I had practically lived every day lying on my back in our bedroom. But after a couple of days of being on antibiotics, I was starting to feel the swelling in my lower abdomen lessening.

DW thought it would be a good idea to get on my feet and move around a bit. I had also recently acquired a gimble for recording steady video with my smartphone and I wanted to try it out.

We decided to drive to the Fletcher Wildlife Garden, just off Prince of Wales Drive, near the Arboretum. I wouldn't have to walk far and if I was feeling lousy, it wasn't such a long drive to get back home.

We noticed a photographer with a large telephoto lens sitting on a bench next to where a ravine drops off toward the Canadensis field. The ravine was filled with all sorts of beautiful flowers, but the photographer was birdwatching.

There's a feeder near the back of the wildlife centre, and we usually see all kinds of birds gather at that spot. But this photographer was hoping to catch some birds in the trees around the ravine.

"I've never thought of coming here to observe birds," said DW.

"Maybe we should come back another time when we have our cameras," I said.

Two days later, we were back. Our Merlin bird app, which listens for and identifies all sorts of birds, heard northern cardinals, warbling vireos, northern flickers, starlings, American redstarts, house finches, song sparrows, and chickadees, but we could only see rustling in the trees, and if we saw any birds, they were flying over the trees and moving too quickly for us to capture them with our cameras.

I managed to capture one goldfinch, perched on a flower stem, but that was it.

I did, however capture closeups of the flowers in the ravine, which I shared for Wordless Wednesday.

Feeling unsuccessful at the ravine, I headed over to the feeder at the back of the wildlife centre building, where I saw chickadees, grackles, red-winged blackbirds, finches, and woodpeckers taking their turns pecking at the seeds and suet.

I stood well back and zoomed in with my 70–300mm lens, hoping to capture some of the birds in flight, as they approached or left the feeder.

Just as a house finch left the feeder, a crackle came in for a landing. In a split second, it almost looked like the two birds were going to collide, but they didn't. All the while, my camera was firing at about four frames per second.

When I got home, I started culling bad shots from my camera: images that were out of focus or badly composed. Shots that missed birds entirely and had nothing in the frame. Subjects that were blurred or were turned so that I was observing them from behind.

And then I saw the shot where the finch and crackle almost collided.

Nikon D7200: f/8; 1/1500 sec; 210mm; ISO 1000

A near miss.

It's not the greatest shot: after all, I was shooting hand-held instead of steadying the camera on a tripod, and so it's not tack-sharp but it does convey the close call.

A tripod will be with me next time.

Happy Friday!

Fletcher Flowers

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far

I don't remember ever mentioning it to her.

It's a strange feeling, as a parent, when your kid reaches the age where he or she or they can purchase and consume alcohol, assuming your child has decided to drink. Having allowed our kids to consume the odd sip of beer or wine (or, rarely, a tiny glass of bubbly on special occasions), they've never made a big deal about it, and have even felt comfortable reaching out to us if they had partied a bit too much with friends, and needed to be picked up.

We don't judge. We were young, too.

Now that Kid 1 is home for the summer, she's been earning money by working at an optometrist clinic. Having been away at college, we've known for years that she's developed her independence and seems to thrive in a work environment.

Occasionally, after a busy day at work, she'll swing by our friendly neighbourhood LCBO to treat herself to a beverage or two. We've known that she has an affinity for rum and for alcoholic spritzers, but on one occasion, about a month ago, she came home and had to show me her latest choice in alcoholic drink.

"Did you ever have this in Korea?" she asked as she withdrew a bottle from a paper bag.

It was soju.

In case you're unfamiliar, soju is a distilled liquor, almost similar to vodka but made, I believe from fermented rice. It's available straight (unflavoured) but comes in a variety of flavours, such as lemon and other citrus fruits.

DW and I used to drink it often when we lived in South Korea, from 1997 to 1999. Back then, lemon seemed to be the only flavoured soju. In 2019, when I made a solo return trip to Seoul and our home-away-from-home city of Chŏnju (Jeonju), I discovered a grapefruit flavoured soju that was quite tasty.

Kid 1 was holding a bottle of apple-flavoured soju.

I explained to her that DW and I used to drink lemon soju often but apple wasn't available when we lived in Korea.

"Oh, I have a lemon one, too," she said, "do you want to have some?"

"Sure, I'll have a sip."

Kid 1 poured two shot glasses: one for each of us. We decided to open the apple bottle first, as I hadn't tried it before.

"Geonbae," I said as we clinked glasses. It tasted like candied Granny Smith apples, both tart and sweet.

Kid 1 only takes small portions from the 360ml bottle. It takes her a couple of days to complete one. I didn't tell her we'd consume a few bottles, each, in an evening, back in the day.

She's far too responsible, anyway.

About a week later, she offered me some of her lemon soju and it brought back lots of memories, many of which I wrote about in my novel. Good memories and not-so-good memories.

It's funny how she's discovered soju without either parent having mentioned it or introducing it to her. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Positive Start

The vernissage for Photo Synthesis brought a lot of people to the Arbor Gallery on Saturday, and I have to say that it took a lot off my mind.

In the weeks leading up to the exhibit, which runs now until July 30, I questioned my submissions and even my abilities as a photographer. I worried that visitors of the gallery would look at my work and shake their heads, wondering why I would have been asked to join with other photographers more worthy of the wall space.

But many showed up to admire the work of Greg Byers, Reenie Marx, Karen Molson, and yours truly, and the vibe, the feedback, and the praise were heartwarming. A weight was lifted from my chest when I saw a red dot affixed to the label for one of my photos.

It was a great beginning to the show.

I captured some video from my smartphone and have put together a short presentation of the exhibit. Have a look.

The three Vankleek Hill photogs and I will be back at the gallery to close out the show on Saturday, July 30, from 1:00 to 3:00. Come out to Vankleek Hill to check out the photographs and maybe even walk away with one or five. I've already agreed to negotiate printing more, should there be a demand on an already sold work, and I'm sure the other photographers would be open to the same.

Happy Monday!

Square

One of the things about trying to shake the feeling that I'm an imposter as the Photo Synthesis art exhibit drew near (it's on now) is that I keep looking for photos that I feel are better than what I've submitted to the show. Not so that I can replace my submissions but so that I can learn for next time.

Assuming that there ever is a 'next time.'

One photo that sprang to mind was one that I took in August of 2012, during a summer photo walk that I led through Centretown. The group met on the Mackenzie King Bridge, outside the Rideau Centre, and from there we walked to Sparks Street, headed down O'Connor Street to Sommerset, over to Bank, up past the Confederation Building, and down the stairs that take you below Parliament Hill.

From there, we walked to Mill Street Brew Pub, where we enjoyed a well-deserved beverage and something to eat.

While we were on O'Connor Street, my eyes not only scanned for what was on the road but what was above, as well. I was on the western side of the road, near the Dominion-Chalmers United Church, looking northward, when I saw contrasting patterns between two buildings on the east side of O'Connor.

When I brought my camera up to my eye and zoomed in, the patterns were made even clearer, so I took the shot.

It was the balconies of the Imperial Apartments building with the steely office towers of 151 Laurier Avenue that gave such texture to the photo. I thought it was very cool and the photo ended up being one of my favourite shots of the photo walk.

Being 2012, I was still new to RAW photo formats and I kept my editing skills pretty simple. I didn't do much to improve the photo and I certainly was a few years away from being able to enhance the photo. The final photo isn't much different from the original capture.

Fast-forward nearly 11 years later and I find myself looking at that image, telling myself that perhaps I should have included it in the Photo Synthesis exhibit. Only, as always, I wasn't completely happy with the shot.

Very recently, I've started thinking about photos of mine that might look better in a square format. I don't know if it's because I've recently started looking at my old Instagram posts, when a square shot was the only format available, or if it's because I found some unused, square picture frames in our basement and started thinking of photos that would fill them.

Either way, I've started looking at photos and re-imagining them with a 1:1 ratio.

The Photo Friday post from two weeks ago was another example of an image that I've imagined as a square.

Enter my photo from 2012.

I actually looked it up on Wednesday, as I was sitting in a hospital, awaiting the results of my CT scan. I had nothing else to do and it actually took my mind off my pain.

The first thing I did was to straighten the lines of the steel and glass from the office tower so that they were as vertical as possible. I then added more sharpness to the image so that the iron barriers on the apartment balconies popped a bit.

Rather than applying a black-and-white filter to the image, I took the colour saturation levels to –100 before increasing the contrast. A bit of play with the ambience and I had something that I thought looked pretty good.

I shared it on Mastodon as one of my daily photos (though I have to now admit, it wasn't particularly 'random').

Because I wasn't working with the original file and was editing with Snapseed, on my phone, I had my doubts about how good the image actually was if it were to be enlarged and printed, so last night I looked up the original photo in my hard-drive database and made similar edits in PaintShop Pro.

(For this post, the photo was resized so that it can only be enlarged so much.)

I like the square format for this image. It gives a better division between the apartment building and the office tower. I see more texture in the image and the pattern is more defined.

Thoughts?

I'm going to search for more photos that I can re-edit and make square, and over this summer, I'm going to start taking more photos, keeping the 1:1 ratio in mind.

Photo Synthesis runs now through to July 30. Join me and three other photographers, tomorrow, from 1 to 3 at the Arbor Gallery, in Vankleek Hill.

Happy Friday!

Never Simple

I like to think of myself as a simple man, neither dull nor extraordinary, getting through life as best as I can, trying to avoid adding chaos while still trying to bring joy to me and those around me.

When I felt a bit ill, on Sunday evening, I hoped it was a symptom of fatigue from the weekend's activities, mixed with a bit of stress over this coming weekend's Photo Synthesis art exhibit vernissage, where three Eastern Ontario photographers and I will be showing some of our work and meeting patrons of Arbor Gallery, in Vankleek Hill.

A good night's rest, I told myself, is all I needed. Simple.

However, when I woke up on Monday, I had a cramping pain in my abdomen and had a headache. It almost felt like a major hangover from a night of binging, even though I hadn't consumed more than a half pint of beer on Sunday afternoon. I had eaten well and healthily, and had gone to bed at a decent hour.

Apart from having felt a little off, the night before, there was no foreseeing that I'd feel so rough the next morning.

I called in sick, and confined myself to bed. Eventually, the headache subsided but the pain in my abdomen grew worse. I hadn't eaten for the entire day, until dinner, when DW convinced me to eat a bit of the pasta she had prepared.

After dinner, I went back to bed.

That's right: I look JUST like that!

On Tuesday, I felt even worse, with the pain in my belly changing from a generalized ache to an acute sensation in one place, in my lower-right abdomen. Worried that I might have appendicitis, I called my doctor and made an appointment, and was seen just after lunch.

My temperature was taken (normal), blood pressure tested (normal), and poked in the belly (not normal). It was suggested that I might, indeed, have appendicitis, and an appointment was made for me to have an ultrasound.

Simple, straight to the heart of the matter.

My ultrasound was first thing on Wednesday morning. The technician was highly trained and was able to detect an inflammation of my appendix.

"What's the next step?" I asked.

"Hospital," was the response. "Today. Now." I was assured that the appendix hadn't ruptured, that I might have a day or two, but that I shouldn't wait until it's too late. "If it stops hurting," I was told, "it's because it has burst. You want to be able to feel it."

I took the time to go home and collect DW, and to let my coworkers know that I'd be off for the rest of the week.

The emergency room was packed. I have to say that I have such a high respect for our healthcare workers. Even in the face of such chaos, where patients were screaming at them and voicing their impatience, the nurses and doctors never wavered from the task at hand, triaging those in need of urgent care and telling the others to wait their turn.

A sign at the entrance warned patients that there was a minimum wait time of eight hours just to see a doctor.

My doctor had called the hospital ahead of time. The imaging clinic had already sent the scan results but had sent me a CD with the results as well. And while I still had to submit myself to the triage nurse and register, I was quickly processed with blood and urine samples.

Within two hours, I was given a CT scan. It confirmed, in clearer detail, that indeed I had appendicitis. Surgery was required and I was passed on to a surgeon.

It sounds like I had a simple case that was caught and easily treatable. After all, I'm a simple man—or at least I like to consider myself simple.

But when it comes to my physical health, things are rarely simple.

I used to have extraordinary vision until my early 40s. I could do that Bugs Bunny trick of reading every line on an eye chart, including the copyright statement at the bottom.

My feet had a rare disease that rarely affects both. I had it in both.

And now, with my appendicitis, just before I was to be scheduled for surgery, the new doctor found a complication.

It seems that there's an infection that has not only inflamed my appendix but the intestine tract connected to it. A thick mucus has enveloped the area, making it hard to see whether the issue is confined to my appendix.

The surgeon said that if she were to operate today, she would have to remove all of the inflamed area, which would include half of my colon.

Not so simple.

She suggested, instead, that we treat the infection around the appendix with strong antibiotics and see what's left. In a couple of weeks, we'd perform the appendectomy.

Assuming it doesn't burst, first.

I was given the option of being admitted to a room for 24-hour observation. I could also receive the first dose of antibiotics and pain meds, intravenously, and then sent home with prescriptions. I would report back if things didn't improve.

If I developed a fever or the pain increased, I was to get back to the hospital immediately. The surgeon also gave me her number.

That's what I did. I don't like spending more time in a hospital than need be. There are too many sick folks there.

There are only two more days until the Photo Synthesis vernissage and I'm going to do everything I can to be there.

Plain and simple. Wish me luck.

BTW: Beer O'Clock is postponed until my appendix is fixed and I'm able to resume beer consumption.

Fraud Syndrome

Yesterday, I drove out to Vankleek Hill to drop off my work for the Photo Synthesis art exhibit, which open this Thursday. The next time I drive to the Arbor Gallery, 10 of my photos will be hung on the walls to be displayed to the curious public.

Hanok Home (12" x 15.5" print
in a 17" x 21" matted frame)

That's when I'll be exposed for the fraud that I am.

I've already withdrawn four photographs from my initial submission, replaced with a single print that I like for the colours but the longer that I look at it, the more I think it shouldn't belong on a wall. The memory surrounding that photo has significance to me but I doubt anyone else will find it appealing.

What makes me think that I have any right to show my work to people in such a fashion? I'm not an artist. Some of my photos, in my opinion, are good, but I can't help but think that someone will come to the exhibit, look at one of my photos, sneer, and say, "You're actually asking money for someone to buy that and... what? Hang it on their wall? Who do you think you are?"

I'm gradually getting into the headspace where I think of this exhibit as an exercise in humility. Each of the photos that I've submitted have some meaning to me, take me to a time where I noticed something, it held my interest, and I captured it on either 35mm film or digitally.

Some of the subjects in the images were fleeting and can never be reproduced. Other subjects are still where I left them but I'll never be back to where I captured them. These are moments in time that came about simply because I noticed them.

Most of these photographs will never be printed again, so those who decide to buy them will own the only printed copy. Perhaps, that will make the images special to someone.

Photo Synthesis runs from July 6 to 30, with a vernissage on July 8 from 1 to 3. If you want to make a special trip to Vankleek Hill, come and say hello. Come and meet three other local photographers who will also be sharing their work. I've seen a few of their photos and they are worth the trip.

Hopefully, a strong presence of art lovers will dispel the fraud syndrome I'm feeling. (Either that, or they'll validate my fear.

Wish me luck.