“Each time I see a beautiful sunset or sunrise, I have to pinch myself because I can’t believe that I’m awake and not dreaming.” ― Anthony T. Hincks
Every now and then, you just have to pull over, enjoy, and take a picture.
In this case, I was returning from closing down our camper for the season, it was later in the day and I spent about fifteen minutes driving west, into a blazing sunset. It was beautiful and painfully bright, yet it was just that.
That is, until we drove through the intersection of the hamlet of Glasgow, just north and east of my home. I simply had to stop and try to make a photo of this beautiful scene. It’s a real challenge to get it close to what the eye sees and the light changes very quickly. Fortunately, I’m very familiar with my camera and what it can and can’t do, having experienced many failures. This time I knew exactly what settings were required and snapped a few bracketed frames just to be sure. Though it’s hard to capture exactly what my eye saw, this is as close an approximation as I could have hoped for.
Nikon D800 Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm 1/125 sec, f/11.0, ISO 100
“Love should not cause suffocation and death if it is truly love. Don’t bundle someone into an uncomfortable cage just because you want to ensure their safety in your life. The bird knows where it belongs, and will never fly to a wrong nest.” ― Michael Bassey Johnson
As I stood at the base of the Whitevale Dam, watching the trout spawn, I noticed this little bird, perched atop a broken tree limb sticking from the water. It sat there, surveying its world for quite some time. Was it simply pausing for a moment from the busy task of nest building. I’m certain it was not lost, though it was looking all around, perhaps for a suitable place to start, for as the quote above states, the bird knows where it belongs.
Nikon D300 Tamron 70-200 mm f/2.8 @ 200 mm 1/1600 sec, f/6.3 ISO 200
There’s something strangely calming about these little birds, so common in Southern Ontario. Which strikes me odd, since they are constantly flitting about and are rarely still.
In fact, they seem a bit nervous most of the time. Perhaps it’s moments like the one, captured above, where the chickadee is resting briefly on a branch that gives that sense of peace? A bit like many of our days, where we move rapidly from task to task and take a brief moment to pause.
Do we appear calm to our peers who also long for rest, or does our outward appearance betray the fact that, as we pause, we are only considering our next task?
Nikon D300 Tamron 70-200 mm f/2.8 @ 200 mm 1/160 sec, f/6.3, ISO 200