“Between seasons, old colours fade and new colours arrive. The once bright orange of beech is replaced by the pale greens of spring.” – Ed Lehming
Things are changing quickly now. Only few mild days and a pale flush of bright green can be detected in the spring forest. The beech trees that provided me colour throughout the winter are fading, the leaves tattered and pale, like ghostly versions of their former selves. This grove is barely visible against the forest backdrop. I’ve noticed buds are starting to form, so it’s only a few days or weeks till even these leaves fall to the ground.
I do like this season, though it’s not as bright and cheerful as autumn with it’s vibrant colours, but there is joy is seeing new growth and the first few budding wildflowers.
This location appealed to me because of the darker log which added contrast to the scene, otherwise it would have been a flat and boring image.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/3200 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Do not assume that tender equates to weakness. There is often great resilience in things that seem delicate at first sight.” – Ed Lehming
The natural world continues to astound me. On the final day of March, I came across a patch of Hepatica, also known as Mayflower locally. Well, Mayflower seems to be ‘Marchflower’ this year. I had found this small patch and took a quick photo with my zoom lens, since that is all I had with me that day.
I returned yesterday, April 1st, with my macro lens, intending to do justice to these beautiful emerging blossoms. In the day I found them, the temperature was 17C or 63F, so quite mild. When I got back today, it was -5C or 23F, quite a different day, and a light snow had fallen overnight. The sunlight had melted most of the snow around the plants I wanted to photograph and had left some wonderful droplets of water to enhance the image.
There were several well established groups of flowers but I selected the ones above because they were nicely and evenly lit. One of my challenges in capturing this image, as is the case with most macro images, is that even a slight movement of air will make the image blurry, and I was contending with a fairly strong and chilly breeze, so had to wait between gusts to capture the photo successfully, so good light was critical.
Something that I really like about macro photography is the very fine details that are picked up by the lense, details often missed on casual observation without a magnifying glass. What really stands out in these blossoms is the delicate hairs that cover the stems and sepals. The plants leaves have not developed yet. These hairs protect the flowers from frost by trapping air close to the stem and blossom, which clearly works, given the cold temperatures when this photo was made. The cover of fallen leaves further protects the plant itself, which still has to develop.
The photo also bring to mind the photo that I shared yesterday of the Mourning Cloak Butterfly, which probably would not have emerged from hibernation, had here not been nectar available to feed on. It seems the butterflies are more aware than I am of the timing of this spring.
While making this photo, I had the opportunity to carefully scan the forest floor and noticed a few early Cohosh blossoms starting to form, also very early this year and also something I would not have noticed had I not been low to the ground to make this photo.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
1/320 sec, f/16, ISO 800
“Spring knows no bounds, when life feels the need to erupt, it does so in its own time.” – Ed Lehming
This has been a truly remarkable year. Just a few days ago, the forests still had patches of ice and snow and the ground was locked in frost. Today, March 31st, I returned to a patch of Hepatica which seemed to have survived the winter unscathed only to find it, and others around it, had started to bloom.
In all my years hiking the local forests, I have never seen them bloom this early. If you look through my posts, you will see the bloom happens in early May, a full month later.
That bodes well for an early spring, something that fills me with real joy. After months of winter, even the thought of greenery returning early is like the scene in the movie The Wizard of Oz when the film shifts for black and white to full colour. It feels like an awakening. It’s a much needed injection of life into a world that has seemed so dark. Sure, I have been out enjoying what nutre had to offer, but the rest of the world around me has been a dark and fearful place. To see new life arriving so soon and with such vigour certainly is encouraging.
The image above was made with my trusty iPhone 12 Pro, which I take with me on hikes when I don’t have a specific reason to carry my full kit. The iPhone has been great for capturing moments as they pop up. It’s not as versatile as my Nikon bt did provide me with a ‘primer’ image, something to look at as I plan a return visit today with my tripod and macro lens. Stay tuned, the time of wildflowers is upon me.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1233 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Spring reveals new things and new life. Sometimes, it has unexpected and early surprises, each received with joy, and curiosity.” – Ed Lehming
This has been a very odd spring. It seems to be progressing at a quicker pace than usual, so I find myself looking back at my photos and notes from the past few years to validate what I am experiencing this year. It really is an advanced spring and I am seeing plants and animals earlier than usual.
I have been out hiking twice already wearing just a long sleeved tee shirt, while trials still have icy sections. It’s like being in spring with winter only steps away. That was the case late last week when I posed the question, “What Season is it?” I entered the forest on muddy early spring trails, at a time when they are usually still snow covered, I hiked through dry, leaf-covered trails, and enjoyed gentle spring creeks. Only a few steps beyond that idyllic scene, I was faced with trails that were completely covered in ice and I had to put my cleats back on. Fortunately I had the foresight to bring them with me on this trip.
As I proceeded along this icy ribbon, the elevation gradually changed and the trail exited the valley system and the snow and ice was once more a thing of the past. Leaving this area and heading into the dry forest once more I spotted motion just off the trail. At first, I thought it was a dark leaf being tossed around by the wind, that is until the ‘leaf’ raised higher above the ground and began circling in the air above me. The ‘leaf’ was a Mourning Cloak butterfly, in March! It looked a bit weather-worn and on research discovered that they hibernate for the winter, so I’d say this one did OK surviving our Canadian winter is relatively good condition. This one must have just emerged and seemed content to sit on the leaf-lettered forest floor soaking up the warm sunlight.
I have since seen a few more butterflies and observed them sitting on maples that recent wind storms have damaged and feeding on the sap seeping from broken branches. There always seems to be something new to learn about the natural world around me.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 200 mm
1/1250 sec, f/2.8, ISO 400
“The greens of spring bring so much promise, but the leftover greens of autumn speak of resilience” – Ed Lehming
This spring has offered some very interesting scenes. I’ve hiked March trails covered in ice one day and clear the next. Bright colours from beech groves have remained bright, and new growth seems to be ready for the full revival of spring. Then there are some complete surprises, like this patch of Hepatica, which looks like new growth, with its bright green foliage. The issue is, this is way too early for new growth, so the only explanation is that this wonderful greenery has survived the winter intact.
Our winter here has not been extremely cold or extremely anything, it has been an ‘average’ winter and I would have expected the usual cycle of plants gradually emerging from the leafy forest floor in the next few weeks. There are still a few patches of snow and ice, as I have documented in recent posts. It is, afterall, still late March, and as I write this post, a skiff of new fallen snow covers the ground outside my window.
It will be interesting to see how this particular plant fares over the coming weeks, it certainly is a testament to the resilience of nature.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 200 mm
1/100 sec, f/5.0, ISO 400
“As we journey through life, we should be vigilant, not fearful, but keenly aware of the world around us.” – Ed Lehming
The title for this image came to me as I was making the photo itself. There was a lesson to be learned from the behaviour of the owl and how it interacted with its environment.
I first noticed this Barred Owl’s presence while shooting the previously posted image, “March Meander“. I was standing on a knoll just above the gently flowing creek when I first heard its call in the pine forest slightly to my left. I could not see it and I’m not sure it could see me yet. I don’t believe it would have been hooting had it been aware of me. Owls tend to be shy and cautious, in my experience.
As I completed my creek photo, I slowly and quietly entered the forest, my eyes to the treetops, looking for any movement. Within a few minutes, the owl must have spotted me and flew from the thick canopy to a more open area of hardwoods, further away.This would provide a better view for the owl and a margin of safety. It did not help me much, because I could see the owl clearly, but in typical fashion, slender branches blocked a truly clear and unobstructed view of the owl.
The owl watched my slow and steady progress as I got closer, being careful not to spook it with any quick movement or noise. I moved between and around the tangled branches, constantly stopping to see what kind of image I might get, taking a few “just in case” shots, if nothing better presented itself. I was finally able to maneuver into a spot close enough to frame the owl through an opening in the branches.
I took my time, watching the owl and simply enjoying one of those rare moments where you can be this close to wildlife in its natural environment, also making sure that my camera’s shutter speed was set to compensate for the owl’s movements. This time was also spent observing those same movement as it rapidly pivoted it’s head to survey the valley below it, always making sure it checked back on where I was and that I continued to not pose a threat. It also took time to preen itself and continuously looked around and focused on the sounds of Red Squirrels and birds who, I’m sure, were aware the owl was on the hunt.
What really struck me, and gave me the title for the image, was the vigilance, the keen observation of its environment for signs that anything might pose a danger to it. The owl was not particularly nervous. I think the vigilance is simply part of its nature because after about ten minutes of roosting in the tree top, it took a quick poop and casually took off, following the curve of the valley.
I was grateful to have had the opportunity to spend time with it and being able to capture a few decent images. With wildlife photography, it seems that your lense is never quite powerful enough, but this image will suffice because it also comes with the experience of having been there.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 200 mm
1/1000 sec, f/2.8, ISO 400
“Water slowly percolates from the ground, joining with spring run off. Drop by drop, a meander is formed, winding gently through the valley, nourishing all along her shores.” – Ed Lehming
This sun-filled valley represented more elements of my hike this past Thursday. The water, freshly emerged from a wetland spring behind me shimmers with life and energy. I can almost hear its gentle babbling in the photo; blue skies reflected on the water.
The meander slowly and steadily weaves its way through the shallow valley, growing larger as melt-water joins in the flow. In the distance, you can still see a snow-covered hillside, melting in the sunshine and warm breezes. Though not visible in the photo, a barred owl hoots in the forest to one side of the valley, scanning for its next meal. Yesterday’s image was the result of entering the forest in search of the owl.
The photo and the visual of meandering is also representative of the that day’s hike. I set out with no particular destination in mind, I simply knew that I wanted to be outdoors and enjoying the day. I travelled unfamiliar trails, staying off the main tracks in hopes of some new discovery.
This valley was one of those places. I take great pleasure from being able to capture these chance moments; those times when the photo evokes an emotion from me. This image brings me peace, as my eyes scan the details, following the flow of the water, the slope of the valley, and the tangle of tree branches. Stopping here, to make this image in silence also afforded me the opportunity to hear the owl’s call which provided a few more photos once I got close enough to frame it decently.
All in all, my own meander covered sixteen kilometers of woods, hills, and meadows and provided my with some beautiful vista to enjoy and photograph. Sometimes an ‘meander’ proves very fruitful.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 24 mm
1/250 sec, f/16, ISO 400
“Seasons blend and confound, spring is fall and fall is spring; my senses are overwhelmed by the shear beauty of the confusion.” – Ed Lehming
I spent most of the day out on the trails yesterday. The forecast was for milder than usual temperatures and the day exceeded expectations. I spent the day outdoors in a long sleeved tee shirt, with my sleeves rolled up. The sun shone brightly above and had already started the process of drying the muddy tracks. I brought my ice cleats with me, just in case, which felt very odd, given the warm temperatures.
It was an incredible day of what felt like blended seasons. If I did not know it was March I would have sworn this was late October. The ground was drying, leaves rustled in the breeze and wildlife was plentiful. I even had the opportunity to enjoy two owls, high in the treetops.
Meltwater-fed creeks flowed gently through the valleys and snow seemed pretty much absent. Then, as I crested a hill and surveyed the valley ahead of me the world switched suddenly to winter, with the main trail completely covered in wet ice. I have never been so happy for my cleats. This icy path continued for some four kilometers till the trail rose out of the valley and the world around me transformed again.
As my hike continued I made some photos of a gently flowing brook and as I completed my shots I heard the distinctive sound of a Barred Owl, hooting deep in a pine grove. I followed the sound and caught a glimpse of the owl departing its roost for a nearby tree with a better vantage point of me. I slowly approached it and got some decent images, which I will share in an future post. Owls are fascinating creatures and I stood on a hillside simply admiring it as it looked back at me, taking time to groom itself every now and then before departing. Once my own time was concluded, I turned to head back to the trail to experience the scene above. It looked like late fall with a few orange leaves still hanging on and bright sunlight shining through the canopy. It was lovely but somewhat confusing, yet all a part of this wonderful day out in nature.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/600 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Water, in all its forms, fills the landscape. What was ice at night now flows and pools, seeping into the ground, providing nourishment to to forest. High above, moisture steams in the sunlit canopy. Spring thaw is upon us.” – Ed Lehming
The forest seems to be transforming every day, shifting from its winter repose to spring activity. There are times when I simply stand in the forest, quietly, and take it all in, trying to figure out ways to capture some of the feelings in my photographs. Much of what is happening is movement, slow and steady movement, accompanied by the sounds of the forest itself.
There are moments like this when the scene itself seems to fill in those elements. As I look back on the photo, I can hear the gentle flow of meltwater along the sides of the the trail, see the shimmer of the sun in the puddles, hear the sounds of cheerful birdsong; so long absent, and feel the gentle breeze on my skin, varying between warm and loamy to chilly, depending on its direction.
There is a feeling of awakening in the forest; a slow revelation of things hidden under the snow, as the winter blanket slowly recedes. It’s something that feels even more precious this year after months of lockdowns and the absence of physical interaction with friends and family. It feels like hope; like a return to something familiar. On the flip-side, it’s also a bit like this photo. The path ahead is clear but needs to be navigated carefully.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/682 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“Bright sunlight beams through hills, still snow covered. March is upon us and the forest takes a deep morning breath. The awakening begins with spring’s bright light.” – Ed Lehming
It’s nearing the end of March. Much of our snow is now melted, yet patches remain in the deeper recesses of the forest to remind us that winter is not so far passed. If the typical weather patterns hold, we are still in for a significant snowfall before we slip into spring. At this point, I’m hoping all we get is a dusting before spring takes full hold.
In the gardens, the tulips and crocus are popping through the warming ground. They will soon be followed by the wildflowers in the cooler forests. Last year, that was a long, drawn out event, with cool dry weather. I’m also recalling our first full COVID lock-down and the guilty feelings about travelling the short distance to the trails. That guilt is gone and regardless of what the next steps are with our local government’s decision roulette, I will be out and enjoying this spring.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 40 mm
1/125 sec, f/20, ISO 400
“These are the final days of fire and ice, the fiery foliage of the beeches begins to fade and drop and the ice and snow will soon be only a memory.” – Ed Lehming
The forest these days is filled with contrast and transition. The trails, covered with snow and ice mere days ago are strips of ice and slush. The only snow remains in sheltered valleys and north-facing hillsides. The beech leaves that I have been so fond of all winter long are, for the most part, tattered remnants of their former glory. With warming days, wind, and moisture, many are beginning to wear and decay, yet still clinging to their branches. I’m seeing the start of new buds forming, which will soon force last year’s growth to fall.
The beech tree on the right is one of my favourites. For some reason, it’s foliage remains thick and brightly coloured every winter since I found it. It’s like a signal fire that can be seen through the forest long before I get close to it.
It is beautiful, seeing this transition to spring, though there are only traces of green starting to show. The forest floor remains littered with a compacted layer of leaves, keeping the ground below frozen. Once the sun warms this layer for a few days, that same layer will provide protection for the delicate emerging ephemerals, something I always look forward to.
Winter is fading to spring and I suspect that I will only have a few more photos of ice-filled forests before they are replaced with greenery and spring flowers.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1667 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The forest shifts and bends gently towards spring, each curve in the trail revealing a bit more earth along the icy edges of the trail. Distant hills, still snow covered, await the sunlight, so that they too can partake in the transformation.” – Ed Lehming
I really do enjoy this time of year. With the proper gear, the icy trails are easy to navigate and it’s such a pleasure to be able to participate in this change of seasons. It’s a surprisingly quick process, once it gets started, especially with the milt temperatures we have had the past few days.
As I write this post, I’m preparing to head out once more to see the changes that have taken place over the past few days. I’m certain that most of the ice will have receded and splashes of pale green from some of the heartier grasses and sedges may be poking through already.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 45 mm
1/4 sec, f/22, ISO 100
“The final day of winter and I stand on the edge of spring. Before me, two seasons meet and blend; only a few steps forwards and the snows of winter are behind me.” – Ed Lehming
This really is a wonderful time of year. I get to experience two seasons at once, mere steps apart. In this image, the forest floor is still covered in snow, gradually melting but still very present. On the edge of the same forest, the sun has begun warming the ground, the snow melted away only a week before. It’s like standing at a gateway. I can feel the cool air around me yet the sun still warms my face.
If this week’s forecast is accurate, the last of the snow will be a memory within days, as the temperatures are supposed to remain exceptionally warm for March and then there will be a few more days of warm rain; that will remove the snow and melt remaining ice quite quickly.
I decided to employ my intentional camera movement technique to give this image the painterly look that I enjoy so much. That slight blur and movement brings life to the image and the wider aperture required for the effect also saturates the sensor a bit more, lending some needed vibrance.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 52 mm
1/4 sec, f/22, ISO 100
“The final day of winter; I walk through familiar forests. Ice and snow recede around me, revealing their long buried secrets. The days warm; brightening light seeps between bare branches; the muted landscape prepares once more to be filled with colour.” – Ed Lehming
I was not planning on returning to this style again, but the composition, which looked quite nice right from the camera, simply lent itself for one more go.
Yesterday was the final day of winter and the day expressed itself as such. As I began my hike the day was bright, cold, and windy but the forecast promised it would warm up by mid-day. The forest showed very clear signs of a transition as well. Hillsides exposed to the late winter sunshine were almost completely devoid of snow, yet the valleys remained locked in the winter world. It’s quite the effect really, to look at leaf-covered hillsides on one side of the trail and see a winter world on the other.
I had set out with my son to gather a collection of new photographs, not knowing exactly what to expect but really enjoying the mid-morning sunlight and the softness of the shadows it produces. It was really ideal and warmed our skin when we got out of the cold wind.
This soft light shone between the trees along the path and yielded several pleasing images, including this one, which was among the first compositions I made that day. I like the muted tones and serenity of the image, it’s focal point being the gnarled birch tree to the left side with the sun beaming brightly above. It seems a fitting image to say farewell to winter as days warm and colour returns to our world.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 42 mm
1/454 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“A painter should begin every canvas with a wash of black, because all things in nature are dark except where exposed by the light.” – Leonardo da Vinci
I set out to create a macro image of a Calla Lily which recently appeared in one of my flower pots. I say appeared because I did not plant it, so the rhizome must have already been present in the soil. It was a pleasant surprise and I wanted to make a photo of it as a reminder of that.
It’s been a while, three years to be precise, since I have gone to my studio setup but the technique and setup quickly came back to me. After a few test shots I had the image I wanted. As I edited it, the blossom looked ‘nice’ but I wanted to pull something more out of it.
The black background that I use for my flower shots is the black wash that da Vinci refers to in his quote. I have found that the emergence of colour from the blackness adds incredible drama to images. That colour was already there but I employed a few filters to really pull the colours out and make the photo dramatic by extracting as much colour and light as I could while staying to to the original image. In the end, it ends up looking more like a painting, which I am pleased with.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
2.0 sec, f/29.0 ISO 100
“The forces of nature affect everything. Though the mighty may resist, over time, nature still leaves her mark.” – Ed Lehming
This image may be the departure, for a while at least, from my re-imagined series of photos which I have shared over the past few weeks. With spring on our doorstep, the colour shift is already underway and that change affects the colours of the modified images. I find them less appealing.
The scene portrayed above is from a recent trip to Burleigh Falls, Ontario. As I have noted on a previous post, these falls are at the very edge of the Canadian Shield, a vast and ancient rock formation that covers much of northern Canada. The Shield and its forests are what many people envision when they think of Canada. The exposed granite outcrops, lakes, rivers, and stands of tall White Pine evoke images of Canada in its natural state; all those elements are present in this image.
It is quite incredible though, when you look at this image, just how much impact the natural environment has in creating these scenes. For example, the granite outcropping has been worn smooth over centuries, if not millennia by the constant flow of water , plants have invaded the cracks in the rock itself, allowing water and ice to spread those cracks even farther. The wind, has been blowing through the narrow channel that forms the Burleigh Falls cascade, slowly but steadily causing the massive White Pine to lean in the direction the wind blows. These elements, the rocks, the water, and the trees are all mighty of their own accord, able to resist most temporal forces, but still succumb to the slow and relentless forces of sun, wind, and water.
I find myself spending more and more time in my photographic practice truly appreciating that many of the scenes that I capture have taken a very long time to create, particularly those where nature is the creator.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 40 mm
1/125 sec, f/20, ISO 400
“As I wander the forest, immersed in her peace and comfort, I realize that what makes this place filled with life so precious, is that I am also among friends.” – Ed Lehming
While I was reviewing images from my latest hike, I came across this image and spent some time considering it. It’s not something I typically do, looking up among the towering pines. This day, however, the wind was quite strong and I looked up at the swaying trunks, watching the clouds scuttering between the openings in the canopy, high above me. There was a life and an energy here which I wanted to draw more from.
The photo has been edited to produce this painterly effect that I am so fond of. I’ve shifted the colours a bit and softened the photo to get the effect I was after. I then spent more time enjoying the photo and trying to think of an appropriate title, something that usually comes quite readily. This time it did not. I wanted to avoid cliches, obvious allusions to height or skies. The more time I spent with the image the more peaceful I became.
It was during this time of peace when I realized that the reason I felt so calmed by the image is because if the gentle energy and recollection of the lively movement of the trees. I can almost see them moving anew, towering above me, but not in a menacing way. It felt more like I was accompanied by them, surrounded, but not in a claustrophobic way, then it dawned on me that this is how I feel in the company of friends, something I am really missing right now, so the trees become a great surrogate for the friends I have been physically separated from for so long now. I am indeed, among friends.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 24 mm
1/125 sec, f/20, ISO 400
“Bright sunlight streams from above as the spring sun rises higher into the sky, it’s light intensified by the remaining snow and ice. I stand. transfixed as nature reveals its beauty, yet again.” – Ed Lehming
I stood in this spot for close to half an hour, simply drinking it in. I noticed the bright sunshine filling this scene from the trail and stepped into the forest by a few meters to get past the undergrowth that blocked part of my view. It was like stepping into a fantasy world; the sunlight was just that lovely.
High above, the pines towered, their bright green canopy glowing against the blue sky; their wonderfully textured trunks leading my eyes downward to a grove filled with golden beeches and emerald green spruce.
It was an incredible play of colour and light and I hope the photo does it justice. It’s moments like this that call me out on the trails so frequently. They are moments that exist for a brief time and then are gone again. I’m just happy that I am able to witness so many and am able to carry them back with me as more than just fond memories.
iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/1159 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32
“The days get longer, clocks go forward, and the sun blesses us with a bit more light each day; spring is on our doorstep.” – Ed Lehming
While I have been spending a lot of my time on the trails in the mornings, there is also something to be said for the late afternoons as well. There is a soft, warm quality to the light, which I enhanced here through the application of a filter. The image already had a nice glow to it, but lately I have been pushing my processing boundaries a bit, trying new things till I find a ‘look’ that pleases me.
As I’ve said on previous posts, my goal as a photographer, is to communicate the sense of mood in my photos, not just capture the scenery. I’m trying to express how that scene made m feel at the time and sometimes the original image lacks that. Yes, there are time that I am able to achieve this goal with just the image itself, but other times I look at a photo and say to myself, “This is just not how I saw it”. Fortunately, I have so many tools at my disposal that a bit of experimentation gets me closer to what I want. In this case, shifting the tones a bit more to purple, while retaining the warm orange tones of the beeches and pine bark got me what I wanted.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 24-70 mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 30 mm
1/250 sec, f/22, ISO 400
“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
Ed Lehming Photography 
Recent Comments