“Snow melts, revealing it’s winter captives. Slowly, the forest floor emerges from the icy shell; the beeches are there to greet the soil with their brightness.” – Ed Lehming
Here’s another image from a few days ago when temperatures soared to 17C and the grip of winter began to loosen. With the warm air and strong winds, even the deepest recesses of the forest felt the touch of spring.
I had headed out to get my final few snow-filled winter photos before the warmth turned everything to gray mush. Surprisingly, given the mild temperatures, very few people were out on the trails. I imagine the ever-present dog walkers were concerned about the slush and mud their four-legged friends would track into their vehicles after a foray into the woods, but I was really expecting to see more people enjoying the weather.
Hiking was a bit of a challenge as the warm air had turned the previously hard packed trails to a mix to crunchy snow and mush, so each step was a step, crunch, and sink event; something that took a bit of getting used to. The ice that I was expecting was pretty much gone, though I wore my ice cleats just to be certain; I’ve had a few unexpected tumbles over the years, so I don’t take any chances anymore.
The ever-present winter beeches were still in abundance, though I did notice that the spring ‘fade’ is underway and there are not very many left with the nice, deep, copper colouring. This specimen had lovely golden leaves and stood nestled between the pines just off the trail that I had chosen. Sunlight was touch and go as the clouds raced by above me. I caught this one at just the right time to show off it’s bright leaves, which, if you look closely, are starting to show spots and signs of decay. Their time will soon be past and new growth of bright green will replace them by mid-May.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 40 mm
1/125 sec, f/20, ISO 400
“Winter merges into spring and water flows everywhere beneath the ice. Small rivulets merge and grow, melting snow and ice along their course; adding to their volume. The cycle begins again.” – Ed Lehming
There is something wonderful that happens in March. The earth begins to stir and water, its lifeblood, begins to flow once more. Staring slowly but swelling with time. It’s a time when evidence of two seasons reminds us of a past and a future as ice and snow yield to water and subtle greenery.
The image I chose for today was made last weekend during a trip to the town of Bancroft, Ontario to deliver some of my photography to a local co-op gallery. It was nice to be on the road and see some familiar scenery again.
One of my favourite place to stop and make photos is Burleigh Falls, a narrows between Lovesick Lake and Stoney Lake in Ontario’s Kawartha Lakes region. It’s a place where Canada’s ancien Canadian Shield is first noticed, where farmland transitions to rugged granite outcrops, majestic white pines, and rivers and lakes.
This photo, which focuses on the narrows below Burleigh Falls captures the essence of the Canadian Shield, showing all the elements that make it so beautiful. There is a raw majesty to this part of the country that I enjoy so much.
Last weekend was also an ideal time to stop here because the shores will soon fill with fishermen and people just wanting a taste of this lovely place.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 40 mm
1/125 sec, f/20, ISO 400
“Spring is on our doorstep; the season’s snow melting under ever increasing sunlight. The forest stirs from it’s winter sleep.” – Ed Lehming
It’s nearly the middle of March, the change in the air is tangible, the days are getting longer and gradually milder, and there is new birdsong in the air.
This image was made yesterday morning as I hiked a local forest. It was quite an experience; the forest still snow covered and white, but the temperatures reached 17C with bright sunshine. As I left the house, I shed my winter coat and wore just my vest, even that was almost too warm at times, but cool breezes from snow-filled valleys made me happy to have it.
It’s very odd when seasons seem to overlap, there should not be this much snow when the temperatures are spring-like, but we had quite a bit of snow this winter and it will take some time to melt. The warm temperature gave me the opportunity and desire to stay out on the trails longer and yielded a lot of good photos, which I hope to share over the next few days. I will also likely be parting from my re-imagined images series and get back to more traditional images, though I still have a few at the ready.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/3040 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The bright beech trees have been my constant bright companions. In the dullness of winter, their brightness and colour has offered me hope and cheer.” – Ed Lehming
As this past winter has evolved, I have been particularly aware of the many bright beech trees that, in past years have, for some reason, garnered only my passing interest. This year, I have actively sought them out and included them in many of my images.
The image I chose for today is so representative of almost all my hikes this year, beginning with an early November snowfall, to bright, deep, and soft snow in December, and several significant snowfalls in January and February. Along the edges of almost all the trails that I travelled, there was almost always at least one beech tree for me to enjoy. In some areas they are a bit more sparse, being visible only in the distance, and other times when certain parts of the forest, where conditions are just right, the forest were festooned with them.
I have really enjoyed the variety of these bright trees, in all their variety; ranging from spindly saplings to tall trees filled with multiple shades of bright orange leaves. The diversity of leaves is also wonderful; some are paper thin wisps while others are thick leaved and copper toned. What they all have in common is the delight they have brought me this year in particular, a much needed respite in an otherwise monotonous world.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1575 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The narrow path lead me into new parts of the familiar forest. The tight, overhanging branches closed in above me creating an bright and comforting canopy of white above me.” – Ed Lehming
My recent series of re-imagined images may soon be winding down. I’ve found great joy in this process but I’m finding that as the colour of the forest shift to a different tone, that the images don’t lend themselves to this treatment as well. I’ve been shifting greens to brown and blues to teal, which works very well in bringing warmth to winter scenes. I’ve experimented with a few spring images from last year and it loses its appeal.
The image that I chose for today was made back in December as I sought a quieter place, of the main trails. I’ve grown accustomed to having space for myself, so I started looking for some of the lesser travelled trails and explored some of the more isolated regions in the forest trail system that I have become so familiar with. These narrow trails, especially after a heavy snowfall, are extremely peaceful, though the lack of traffic also meant that I had to do a lot of trailblazing in snowshoes, which requires more exertion but provides the reward of having spaces all to myself to simply enjoy in quiet; spaces like this, where I am literally enshrouded in the winter whiteness.
iPhone 7 @ 3.99 mm
1/1600 sec, f/1.8, ISO 20
“Droplets of orange hang on fragile branches laden with heavy snow, like splashes of sunshine, competing for my attention with the white brightness of the new fallen snow” – Ed Lehming
As I consider winding down my recent series of re-imagined photos, I keep coming across a few gems that I had overlooked, most of them featuring beech trees and their glorious winter foliage. They seem to have become my focus over the past few months, taking me away from the stark grayness that can often define our winter months. Sure, there are bright, sunny days with lovely clear light and bright blue skies, but there are an equal number of dull, cold, and lifeless days as well.
Perhaps it’s an outcome of the effects that COVID has had on most of us. It seems that I have found myself seeking the positive; those points of brightness that give me hope and provide some joy? It’s not that this year has not had it’s joyous moments, we had a new grandson just two weeks ago and have actually been able to hold him, since we have remained closely connected with our youngest daughter, his mother, throughout the pandemic. So, there have been some blessings in our lives and the pandemic drags on.
The beech, and my processing of my recent images have simply provided me with change; with something new and interesting, to keep my mind positive and looking forward through theses times. This images is one example, though the tree hangs covered in snow, the bright orange colour of the leaves becomes the focus, though the snow is also lovely and compliments the scene.
iPhone 7 @ 3.99 mm
1/1000 sec, f/1.8, ISO 20
“Winter lingers and takes its toll, slowly drying and fading even the most tenacious foliage. My beloved beeches are no exception. Day by day, their colour also succumbs to the elements, but faded and weather worn, they still hold on, awaiting their spring replacements.” – Ed Lehming
I’m starting to feel like this beech tree, hanging on, awaiting spring and the promise of relief from the cold of winter and the isolation COVID has had on our world. I hang on by reminding myself that this is a temporary, though emotionally taxing, period in our lives. The past year has been like nothing most of us have ever experienced, nor want to experience again.
As I look at images like this, I can’t help but find them analogous to where we are right now. The long winter of the pandemic drags on, but we are starting to see signs of hope; vaccines are starting to be deployed, and the world seems to be moving towards something slightly better, albeit at an agonizingly slow pace. I feel a bit like this beech tree, my source of brightness through the dark winter months, hanging on to it’s leaves, just as I hold onto fond memories of times with family, friends and travel. I’ll keep hanging onto them in the hopes that, very soon, there will be new memories and experiences to take their place in my life.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1949 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“At the centre of the pine grove it stood, massive, ancient, and humbling. A massive maple, the likes I have not seen; the King of the Forest had my undivided attention” – Ed Lehming
I have seen this tree from a distance for year, set deep in a recess of plantation pine. I could see hints of it through the tall trunks but had no idea of its sheer size and majesty; until today, when I stepped of the trail and ventured into this sacred glade to bear witness to something majestic.
The massive maple is actually made up of three separate and individually massive trees, their trunks nearly touching, giving the illusion of a single tree above ground. Below ground, for all I know, the roots may well be fused into a single entity. This cluster completely fills a large glade, making room for no others. In the summer, the tree’s canopy creates a dark and brooding cover that obscures most of the light, the sunlight feeding this tree only. The darkness is one of the reasons that I have not taken a closer look in the past, it’s simply too dark for a good photo, without the use of extra equipment, and I have not had a lense wide enough to encompass the entire scene. That changed today, equipped with both my iPhone 12 Pro and my Nikon D800 with a 24-70 mm f/2.8 lens. Both cameras did an admirable job but the iPhone image was easier to convert to this style.
The light today was also not ideal, but I settled on this shot, as I found the glare did not distract too much from the tree itself, in fact, it makes the image a bit brighter and a bit mysterious, in my opinion, giving it all a bit of a watercolour look.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1795 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The new day greets me with bright sunshine, long shadows, and a bite in the air to remind me that winter is not yet concluded.” – Ed Lehming
I continue in my morning walks, still not tiring of the wonders the forest has to offer me. Each day just feels ‘fresh’. Some days are fresher than others; even though we have entered March and there has been a brief respite in chilly days, I think winter is not quite done with us. Despite a brief late February thaw, snow remains plentiful and cold nights leave a distinct chill in the morning air, it has not made me less eager to be outdoors and enjoying my mornings.
The scene above has become something I really look forward to, be it mild or cold. The slowly rising sun still remains low enough in the sky to provide me with a soft, diffused light, but bright and cheerful as it beams between the trees. I also find it creates interesting highlights on distant objects, like the small grove of beech trees here.
I’m still enjoying the conversion of my photos to a more painterly look and I’m looking forward to actually painting them once my skill and comfort level in that medium improve.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/979 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The whiteness of winter has more to reveal about how we see the world. If we take the time, and look carefully, the white exhibits treasures that we don’t even notice on casual observation.” – Ed Lehming
Perhaps one of the most difficult things to photograph successfully is a bright winter scene. As we look upon the world, it seems filled with pure and unending whiteness, broke up by shadow in the deeper recesses of the forest.
I’ve read many articles pertaining to winter photography, camera settings, gear best suited to cold temperatures, and composition. Moany of those articles have shaped how I approach winter photography, which is an inevitable, given where I live. This year the snow began in November and the ground is still covered with a thick blanket of the stuff. “How” is see snow has changed a great deal for me this past year. I’ve spent more time composing my photos, pulling in elements to add interest to what would normally be a scene of white, with shifts to black. I spend more time letting my eyes wander and look for winters of colour that are not readily visible.
Think of the beautiful soft tones of blue in the shadows of winter scenes. I’ve looked for those tones and pushed them a bit to reveal wonderful gems of colour. For me, if there is no colour, I tend to be a bit disinterested. Not to take away from wonderful black and white winter photography, many scenes lend themselves very well to this treatment, but I have a great fondness for colour and its effects on my art.
In the scene above, I was particularly taken by the bright red berries above the path. It actually took a moment for my eyes to realize what they were, given the bright glare of this winter glade. I tried to bring this forward in my processing of the image, transforming the pale blue shadows to more of a teal tone and in doing so, the rusty ochre coloured pine cones took on a purple cast to match the barely noticeable shadows in the snow. What I find interesting is that even though I have modified the colours, I believe there was already enough of a hint of them in the original photo that though it looks processed, it does not feel completely unnatural. It does feel quite liberating to break from the norms and create something altogether new.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/2817 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Warming days and foggy mornings bring back familiar paths, but new and unexpected scenes emerge from the mists, drawing me forward, revealing their wonder.” – Ed Lehming
I find myself between misty and foggy scenes and those of deep cold, but that is the nature of late winter around here. It can be bright and cheerful one day and bitterly cold the next. These changes in temperature also bring changes in the forest. In places, the snow recedes and brings back memories of golden autumn days, the ground littered with leaves and filled with the sweet scent of loam.
Yet, the revelation is slow and measured, showing only so much. In the distance, thick fog hangs on the trail, hinting at something yet to be discovered and beckoning me forward.
The image I chose conveys some of this transformation. The ground is covered with leaves compressed by the winter’s snow fall; above, the slender branches still seem to hold the cold of winter in their teal tones and softness; ahead, the trail disappears in the bright glare of fog and snow. It’s like standing in a transition of seasons; a few steps forward brings me back to winter whites and a step back puts me back to the promise of spring.
I really enjoy these ‘transition’ areas because of the visual variety they provide me and the symbolism of change that they represent. I often find myself standing in these places for long periods of time, looking forward and looking around me, enjoying the transformation that they represent, because that too will change as the seasons continue to advance.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 6.0mm
1/122 sec, f/2.0, ISO 50
“The mist settled around me, obscuring all sounds as whiteness swirled into the distance.” – Ed Lehming
This is a memory from peaceful day late last year when a thin fog had settled in the local forest. I had just received my new iPhone 12 Pro and was anxious to see how it performed. I thought the fog was less than ideal for this but ventured out anyhow. I also took along my Nikon D800 as a comparison and made the same shots with both cameras.
The intelligence built into the iPhone was incredible. It is essentially point and shoot whereas the D800 on auto-mode struggled to capture to colours and tones as well. Once I switched over to full manual-mode and took control of the settings the results were comparable.
What the iPhone can’t do, because of how it processes long exposures, is to produce a smooth ‘sweep’ when creating ICM (Intentional Camera Movement) shots. There is no ‘shutter’ per se to remain open and it processes the images as video. Since I like to produce single exposure, in-camera ICMs regularly I will continue to rely on my Nikon for those images. Each camera has its place in my kit.
So, there is the technical stuff out of the way. What did stand out for me that day, from both cameras was the subtle tones of purple in the shadows. I’ve really been enjoying re-imagining some of my traditional images and this one really lent itself to that same treatment, especially given the hints of orange to compliment the purples. The resulting, edited image has a soft haunting feel that almost looks like a watercolor painting. I find there is a depth and flow to this image that I really like and I have found myself returning to it several times over the past few days simply to enjoy it. I find it peaceful, yet slightly haunting as the gently rolling hills fade into the distance. The image brings me back to that particular day and I vividly recall the absolute silence as a stood and made this image, drinking in the stillness.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/4 sec, f/18, ISO 640
“The windswept leaves shone and shivered in the breeze like a raging fire among the pines.” – Ed Lehming
This image was made early last week on a trail I had not visited for some time. I was on a quest for some bright beech to help bring February to a cheerful close and I recalled some nice groves in this location.
I was not disappointed.What I recalled as a few decent patches of beech have flourished during my absence and the bright orange multi-toned leaves blazed among the pines as if the tree itself was on fire.
The beech leaves also tend to retain the shape they held when the dry out in the fall. These would seem to have experienced some strong winds at that time and look like they are caught in a windstorm, further enhancing their flame-like appearance.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 6.0mm
1/800 sec, f/2, ISO 25
“Beginning as a trickle from deep in the earth and combining with other small trickles, the creek forms and grows in the dark recesses of the forest” – Ed Lehming
Here is another ‘re-imagined’ image of a scene I have tried countless time to do justice too. It’s the headwaters of Duffins Creek, a local creek that flows from the Oak Ridges Moraine to Lake Ontario. I have spent many years hiking the trails along this beautiful creek and it has yielded many great photos.
This beautiful spot is a challenge to photograph for a few reasons. Firstly, the light is very low and diffused by the thick canopy of cedars, nourished by the boggy, water-laden ground, which is the source of the creek. Secondly, is the cedars themselves. Photos I have taken in the past have seemed dull, uninteresting, and don’t communicate just how lovely this place is. If you look at my camera settings below, you can see that there is not much available light to work with, even on a bright day.
December snow falls and taking a chance on something new has yielded this image. The snow brightens the scene and the morning sunlight in the background beams softly through what would normally be a thick, flat looking mesh of cedar. It seems like all the elements came together at last, further enhanced with my post-processing. The scene is transformed from what can be, and has been, almost oppressive and brooding to something quite serene, I think.
I’m so pleased to be able to achieve this result with a bit of coaxing and breaking out from the more traditional processing of my photos.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/125 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“What lies around the next turn, we cannot tell for certain, but having taken the journey before, we can anticipate.” – Ed Lehming
For today’s post, a very familiar site; one that I have photographed many times, seeing some potential in the composition; interesting lines, but never quite satisfying. I decided to transform this image from early December as well, to see what it would yield, and I’m very pleased with the results.
The snow that morning was the first real significant snowfall and it was heavy and stunningly white. That’s why I decided to overexpose the image a bit, to replicate the glare that my eyes experienced. Despite the purity of the snow, there are always shadows and they come out nicely here in tones of soft purple and teal. Of course, there must always be a splash of orange somewhere, which balanced the overall image.
It was not till I started really looking at the image that I was reminded one of the telegraph poles that line the track had fallen over a few years ago, toppled by a storm. Here, it appears like it has succumbed to the deep snow and is resting on a soft bank of white powder. It is actually suspended by the wires that it is was designed to support.
Just around this bend, at the north end of the town of Stouffville, is the commuter train station and my backyard. I did not have to go far for this one at all.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 6.0 mm
1/888 sec, f/2, ISO 25
“Midwinter and February’s golds bring colour and gladness to the otherwise stark forest.” – Ed Lehming
I’m continuing with this series of ‘painterly’ photos, which due to the environment I’ve been immersed in lately, have taken a shift to more of an orange and purple palette.
For a change of pace, I decided to return to a trial system that I have not been on for a few years, making it familiar yet refreshing at the same time. This particular tract has far more beech trees than I recall from previous visits and I have to admit that I did not spend much time on these trails in the winter because they tend to e quite busy with cross-country skiers and dog walkers. I was considering my regular haunt but when I saw the trailhead relatively deserted, I decided to take my chances.
The late morning, winter light was wonderful and my hike yielded a lot of good images, some of which I transformed and others which I will post over the coming days in their original format.
There was a second reason for this excursion, other than simply needing to get outside after a few days. I just acquired a new 24-70 mm f/2.4 lens that I was eager to take through its paces. More on that in future posts.
As I said earlier on, this forest is filled with beautiful beech groves, interspersed between pines. With the sunlight low in the sky, the beeches seem like flames between the pines and stand out so nicely in the snowy winter landscape, as I think shows up rather nicely on this image.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/2450 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The ice had just begun to form on the pond, freezing it in time. Frozen, but ever so thin, letting the blue shine from within.” – Ed Lehming
Another of my re-imagined images. This time a view from early December. We’ve had a relatively mild winter here with moderate wet snowfall. At this time, there was still a lot of open water, which made for some confusing images. I created this one just as the pond had begun to freeze. It was quite interesting because it even appears that there are frozen ripples but it already had a moderately thick coating of ice on it. The combination of the bright winter sky and the water beneath the ice makes the blues more pronounced.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 1.54 mm
1/1100 sec, f/2.4, ISO 25
“Mid Morning in February, and the winter sun beams brightly between the pines; the world stands in silence.” – Ed Lehming
This season, I have experienced something altogether new; mornings in the winter forest, and it is spectacular! You see, in the past, I would wait till afternoon to venture out onto the trails, giving the sun some time to warm the air. I really did not feel I was missing anything; I was wrong.
I’ve been venturing out earlier this year mostly to avoid the crowds of people who have discovered the forest trails; the COVID escapees. This actually began for me in early December, when a new fallen snow transformed the winter world. This was the heavy, wet snow, that clings to everything, forming thick blankets of snow and suspending miraculously on slender branches, its weight causing those same branches to bend towards the ground.
I had been enjoying watching the snowfall from my kitchen window while enjoying a cup of hot coffee when I decided that I would like to be in this wonderland, rather than just an observer. So, I got into my truck and made the quick fifteen minute drive to my favourite trail, something I generally don’t do in the winter, but I was concerned that even a slight change in temperature or wind would quickly undo this wonder. As I stepped into the forest I was awestruck at the magnificent and unspoiled beauty of the snow-filled landscape. I posted those photos back in December, if you care to look back.
In any case, that single morning experience has made me far more apt to get up a bit earlier to enjoy the soft winter sun, among the pines and scenes like this.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/340 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The trail narrows, tucked nicely between the reaching spruce boughs, before the North Trail widens up before me.” – Ed Lehming
I struggled for a title for this image, so decided to use a location for a change. This portion of trail runs along the northern edge of North Walker Woods, a local trail that I have spend much time on over the past few months. The image depicts one of the few spots where the trail narrows down a bit. For the most part, the trail is wide enough to accommodate four people walking side by side.
This year, with so many people trying to get outside to cope with the isolating effects of COVID-19, the trails have taken an extraordinary amount of traffic, especially this winter when our provincial government imposed a strict ‘stay at home order”. That meant that you could only leave your home for essentials. Fortunately, exercise was deemed as essential. But, It also meant that thousands of people began to look for places where they could do this; the local trail system became one of them. So, the trails that are generally quite narrow and lightly used in the winter months are so wide and trampled that it looks like cars have been through here.
I’ve made a point of getting out on weekdays, when traffic is a bit lower and I’m less likely to run into any large groups. I like to hike quietly and alone and actually find myself getting bit anxious when I hear particularly loud groups approaching. I understand others’ need to get outdoors as well, but I like to hike quietly with my thoughts and enjoy the sounds of wildlife around me.
As case counts steadily decline here, I’m hoping that my sanctuary, like all else in our world lately, returns to some sense of ‘normal’. For now, I will be content with whatever time I can spend outdoors and savour what peaceful moments the day affords me.
This image also continues my series of ‘re-imagined’ photos, which is perhaps coming to a conclusion. I’m still enjoying them, so expect to see a few more.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1000 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Like the welcome of a warm fire, the beech trees glow in winter’s sunlight” – Ed Lehming
The wonder of beech trees keeps my attention. As I review recent images, they always make me look twice. In this ‘re-imagined’ image, a particularly bright beech dominates the scene. What I have found most interesting, apart from the fact that beech hold most of their leaves all winter long, is the diversity in pigmentation. Those shown here are thick leaved with a deep copper colour while others, in close proximity, are wispy and a faded cream colour, almost bleached looking and tattered.
Here, bright morning sunlight makes the overhanging tenacious oak leaves really ‘pop’ in competition with the beech leaves below them. Yes, even some of the oaks hang onto their foliage well into winter if the conditions are right.
As I’ve mentioned before, there is such a delight in this bright colouration in the depths of winter. What I find most astounding is that I rarely noticed them until a few years ago, when I spent more time on the forest trails. I’m wondering if it’s simply because I was not paying particular attention to my surroundings or if the profusion of beech is some recent element of the forest’s evolution. I’ll have to reference back to photos I made many years ago to verify that.
In any case, the bright orange is such a welcome sight every time I enter the forest, be it next to the trail or some distant grove in a distant valley, their effect on me is always the same.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/950 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Despite colder temperatures, the days are beginning to lengthen and the sun fills the forest with warm sunshine. As I stand on the trails, enjoying the scenery, it warms my skin and my soul.” – Ed Lehming
It’s mid-February, there have been many snow-filled days, somewhat limiting my time in the forests, though I make a point of venturing out as often as I can safely. The trails themselves are fine, but I have to drive to get to them.
When I actually get onto the trails, my world is transformed. The day to day worries wet away into the peace and solitude of the forest. The world goes quiet, and the only sounds are the wind and birdsong blending in the air above me. I take my time, taking in the very essence of the woods.
The sun is now a bit higher in the sky, and If I plan my hike, much of it is spent with the sun on my face. It warms me and puts me into a deeper sense of peace. The mid-winter sun is warm but soft, making many of my photos a bit more dreamy. I’ve enhanced this effect in my recent ‘re-imagined’ series of images to try to communicate this more deliberately. When I look at the resulting images it brings me the same sense of peace that I get when I’m out hiking and I’m hoping this translates to those reading these words and viewing my images.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/2400 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Familiar paths are transformed by winter’s snow. Freshness and purity fills my senses as I look upon the serene landscape, framed in birch.” – Ed Lehming
I’m continuing with my theme of ‘re-imagined’ landscapes. Taking these familiar scenes and digitally transforming them beyond standard photographs is therapeutic for me. There is a real sense of creative joy when I look at the finished product.
There is a correlation here for me, since I have spent a lot more time outdoors in my forced retirement. I’ve had more time to really appreciate the wonderful natural areas that I find myself in. There has been time to consider my past, present, and future as I walk silently through these landscapes.
I’m finding myself less hesitant to try new things, to do things that I find satisfying, rather than worrying about drifting from some accepted ‘norm’. As the landscape is framed between the birches, I life is currently framed between a familiar ‘past’ and an uncertain ‘future’, which I am trying to process in a new way, much like I did with this image.
The many recent snow filled days have put the autumn residue to rest, buried deep beneath winter’s white blanket just as I gradually put my former career to rest. The past is now buried and the future is unknown and the present is beautiful and calm.
As the snow eventually melts, I look forward to what emerges.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/4000 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“When the elements come together in perfect alignment, the scene is transformed into a thing of incredible beauty. You just have to be there when it happens to truly appreciate it.” – Ed Lehming
I have made many images of this point along a local hiking trail. I’m drawn to the accentuated vanishing point in the distance and the way the pines line up, particularly on the right-hand side. There is also an interesting play of shadows on the snow, caused by overhanging branches higher up.
Lately, I have been out hiking and making photos earlier than normal, maily to avoid the steady increase in visitors to the trails as people seek new activities during the COVID lock-downs. Coming out early has offered me a few treats, like this one where the winter sun is in perfect alignment with the trail. The effect of this is that the entire length of the trails is brightly lit by the sunlight passing directly between the trees. It makes the path seem to glow. Even above the path itself, slender branches are bathed in sunlight and reflect it back to me.
This bright, but somewhat softer winter light reflects into the forest and the whole scene is tranquil, yet energizing. I’m not sure how else to describe it. I think the image does a far better job at that.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/3500 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Though diminutive to their surrounding neighbours, the small spruces have the potential to be so much more” – Ed Lehming
In keeping with yesterday’s post on Transition, I’m including another interpretation of a recent image along the same theme.
Especially in winter, the small spruce groves which grow within and beside the much larger plantation pines make for interesting image which tell a bit of a story about the forest itself. The spruce are secondary growth, taking advantage of the shelter provided by the towering pines.
At some point, the pines will be selectively harvested to allow even more light into the base layer. It is practice to remove every second row once the trees reach maturity. This provides timber for sale and opens up a larger area for secondary trees to grow in their place.
Someone once told me that maples planted in open fields will not flourish. They are too easily damaged by winds, excess sunlight and snow. So, they are planted within these pine forests so that when the pines are harvested the remaining, more mature maples and other hardwoods can survive.
I find these forestry stories interesting and they make sense.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1062 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“In the space between old and new, a transition takes place, the path I follow puts me between both and I can partake in both without having to chose” – Ed Lehming
This is another very familiar scene to me, transformed into something slightly different.
The trail depicted here runs along the edge of a plantation pine forest. The forest slopes gently to the north, with the trail running westward, creating an artificial border between the pines and the mixed forest to the north. It is a transition point with the pines to my left and the older, mixed forest, to my right.
I have made many photos from this vantage point, mostly in the winter when the spices below the pines and to the right catch the fresh fallen snow, creating peaceful winter scenes.
Looking at the image in this form, changes how I see it. It makes me consider a bit more carefully just why this composition works so naturally. There is a contrast between the old and new growth and the light, form the south almost always makes its way through the pines, diffusing it and creating a soft glow.
It also provides a broader view of the diversity of this part of the forest, where one environment flows into the next with such ease.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/172 sec, f/2.4, ISO 25
“The bright beeches that I encounter along the way serve as reminders of bright warm autumns and offer the promise of better days.” – Ed Lehming
I have chosen to re-interpret yet another of the images I made this past week. In this scene, the trail is bordered on both sides by bright orange-leaved beech trees, bathed in morning sunlight.
The beeches have always fascinated me in how they retain their leaves for much of the winter. There is an unexplainable variation in just how vibrant the leaves can be; some are paper-thin and wispy, while others are neep copper tones and quite thick. Nonetheless, they are always a welcome splash of colour in the winter woods, more so when the low morning sunlight lights them up to the point they seem to glow.
They are tenacious reminders of the lush growth that existed here only a few months ago and offer me the promise that that growth will return once more. This particular grove, at the base of a fairly steep incline, has retained most of the leaves and the foliage continues deep into the surrounding pines. The darker rusty bark of the pine trees also contrasts nicely with the brighter orange beech leaves.
As I edit these images, I’m always surprised by the subtle and unexpected colour tones of the shadows in the snow. In this case, as in my prior post, I pushed the already present soft purples a bit because they work well for the overall serene mood I’m after. I hope I achieved that, it seems to work for me.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 14 mm
1/170 sec, f/2.4, ISO 25
“Every journey has a beginning. What that journey has to bring, is an unknown, but our attitude in starting the journey often has a great impact on the outcome. I chose hope.” – Ed Lehming
In keeping with my photographic experiments, I have digitally enhanced this one as well. It brings me great joy to see what some of my everyday scenes transform into.
The image I chose today is a few steps in from the trailhead of one of my favourite local trails, North Walker Woods, near Uxbridge, Ontario. I have hiked this 6.5 kilometer circuit hundreds of times over the past two decades. Over this time, the familiar trail has offered me some of my best photographic memories, from bright spring flowers, deep summer greens, and spectacular autumn colours, as well as wonderful winter scenes.
What I have discovered, when entering this forest trail is to always expect something new. The forest is never the same, even on the same day. It is alive and vibrant and ever changing. I know this to be true because I have experienced it. Even on dull days, I come across some new wonder, some subtlety that I had not noticed earlier. The light also plays a lot into this, since it plays differently in different seasons and times of day. A beam of light may fall on an otherwise un-noticed blossom, or cast an interesting shadow across my path.
So it seemed appropriate to use this particular scene for one of my modified images. The digital enhancements serve as a new and enjoyable way to regard my many journeys down this familiar path, now transformed into something wonderfully new. It has, yet again, offered my a new perspective.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1500 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Hints of colour on crisp winter days inspire me to look for more, to imagine the world alight with brightness” – Ed Lehming
I’ve found myself stretching and experimenting with my photos lately, not satisfied with the image, “as-is” but wanting to expand it, to glean more than the base photo offers me. I’m taking the bright elements of the photo; the bright birch bark, the warm orange and copper of the beech leaves, and the glow of the background sky and extracting something altogether new from those hints of colour.
What’s driving this desire lately is a desire to bring beauty into a world caught in the complex emotions of social isolation as the COVID 19 pandemic still holds the world around me in its grip. I find the news filled with depressing news of ‘worst-case scenarios. For my own mental health, I need to create beauty, and if it means taking some small hints of colour and expanding them into something more, then that is what I will do.
My intention, over the next few days and weeks is to create a themed collection of enhanced images that are informed by these bright colours, to fill my world with brightness that I can immerse myself in and, hopefully, bring that brightness to others along the way.
I titled this image “Structure” because of the way the background foliage seems to hang on the framework of the birch tree. I’ve taken some liberties in converting the normally green pine boughs to an orange palette to keep the look and feel of this series similar.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/3500 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“As the deep cold of January takes hold, the world is transformed, but not diminished” – Ed Lehming
This haunting image was made along the roadside in Ontario’s Prince Edward County. The island/peninsula location in south-eastern Ontario is made up on a thick layer of limestone. It’s the limestone that creates the interesting ridges that the water flows from and then freezes as it encounters the cold air. Limestone is also extremely porous, so offers an easy place for groundwater water and surface runoff to accumulate and flow through.
The ice-fall section that I chose to photograph is part of a larger exposed rock-cut which was almost completely covered in ice. I chose this section because it had the most interesting structure and the light was playing particularly nicely in this part of the overall structure.
The image is only one of several scenes involving ice that I shot that day. The ice along the shores of lake Ontario had begun to form in earnest over the past few days of very cold temperatures (-15C). It makes photography a bit challenging as leaving my hands exposed in the wind and low temperatures makes it extremely uncomfortable after only a few minutes.
It is pretty incredible how the simple act of freezing can transform a scene to something completely wonderful, but you have to be willing to brave the elements to enjoy much of that transformation.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1900 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Winter hikes on cold days offer me time for quiet reflection, bright sunshine, and solitude” – Ed Lehming
More and more, I find myself our hiking on even the coldest days. As the COVID pandemic continues to affect our world I’m finding the natural places around me to have become ‘discovered’ by more and more people trying to get outside and active. This has meant that the once quiet places I have been going for years are often overrun, especially on weekends. Single track trails now look like highways and many of the larger groups that I pass can be heard long before I encounter them.
I will not begrudge others the gifts that our natural places offer. It’s truly a good thing that people are beginning to freshly appreciate the healing gifts that time spent in nature has to offer, but I do miss the solitude, those times where I simply want time alone, without the noise and distraction of others.
I have found a few ways of achieving that goal: I have begun to discover and explore lesser used trail systems, those where access is not conveniently provided. I’ve found myself going out much earlier, before the majority of urban adventurers arrive, and, I find myself on the trails on days those very cold days where I would normally have stayed at home.
With good preparation, even the coldest days can become enjoyable. I dress appropriately for the temperature, yet keep in mind that vigorous hiking will also keep me warm, and often perspiring, especially as the hike progresses.
It’s on these cold days, especially those where the sun is clear and bright, that I have experienced some beautiful scenery and sounds. The cold air creates some interesting effects. During deep drops in temperature, the snow becomes particularly crunchy and sound seems to travel further. Around me, the trees crackle as the cold penetrates the wood. Despite the cold, small birds; chickadees, juncos, bluejays, and finches, fill the air high above me with their song. There have been many times recently when I have just stood and listen to the sounds of the forest around me. It’s a pretty amazing experience.
Of course, I am never completely alone on the trails; there are others out and about, just like me, but on my typical 12-15 kilometer hikes, I meet other hikers only on occasion. Sometime we will stop and chat, but generally, it’s a cheerful “hello” and we pass by each other, simply enjoying what nature has to offer us.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/2500 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
Ed Lehming Photography 
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