It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Yesterday we lit the third candle on our advent wreath. That means there’s only one more Sunday before Christmas. I don’t know about you, but the days of December seem to pass with lightning speed, and the Christmas spirit has so far eluded me. Maybe it’s the lack of snow crunching under my winter boots; maybe it’s the lack of seeing my breath in -20C weather; or maybe it’s because I have seen Christmas displays in stores for months, thinking “that’s much too early!” This is also the first year I have not worked in the month of December, longing for the Christmas break… yup, that just might be it!

I have not done much photography since the fall, but I wanted to experiment with taking pictures in low light without flash. In this the dark half of the year there’s plenty of opportunity to do just that outside and inside. I love coming around the corner of our street when it’s dark and being met by the sight of icicle Christmas lights on our house. There’s something very simple yet incredibly beautiful in those drooping lights which I wanted to capture. So I grabbed my camera one night recently—but not my coat!—and took a few shots. I am surprised at how clear they are, really, as I went out long after sundown. The pictures are a bit grainy in the bottom half which is further away from the lights, and I have to figure out if there is a way to avoid that. But for my first try I’m pretty happy I have this memory of our house at Christmas.

If it works outdoors, maybe it will work indoors on the same setting, was my thought, and what better subject to try it on than our advent wreath. Jan made it himself for our second Christmas in Canada, and I love the simplicity of it, too: the spruce wreath held up by four red ribbons, one red ribbon hanging down in the middle with a pine cone at the end. And of course the four candles evenly spaced between the four red ribbons creating shadows on the ceiling and the wall. We turn off all the lights in the house and sit quietly watching the wreath while listening to Danish Christmas carols. Sometimes we sing along. I am at peace for those 15-20 minutes… nothing else matters. I feel I captured the essence of this Danish Christmas tradition we have kept alive through all the years. Christmas just wouldn’t be Christmas without it, or without all the other Danish traditions we hold so dear at this time of the year.

I dare say… could that be a little pang of Christmas spirit I just felt?

Merry Christmas to all of you who read my blog and have encouraged me to keep going. I am blessed to have you in my life.

Canada, Our Home

I’m sure no one who reads this blog needs me to tell them Canada is an awesome country. From coast to coast to coast we have spectacular landscape and scenery, flora and fauna, and each province and territory has its own strengths which together make Canada one of the best places in the world to live. I know Denmark has been named the happiest country on Earth, and I have often been asked why I chose to leave such a place and settle in Canada.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, really. Neither Jan nor I were ever so dissatisfied with our life in Denmark that we decided we’d had enough and wanted to live somewhere else. We were young, adventurous, and in between jobs, so when I saw an ad for a greenhouse foreman in Leamington, ON I jokingly said to Jan “why don’t you apply for that one?” Over the next few months one thing led to another and the joke became a little more serious. We both wanted to see the world, and this was a perfect opportunity to experience this huge northern country we really didn’t know too much about.  Canada had a certain mystique about it in my 23-year-old mind, and the more I learned, the more excited I became that we might actually go there for a year or so before we settled back down in Denmark.

On November 17, 1975 we set foot on Canadian soil for the first time. That was the beginning of the love affair we have with this country. For the past 40 years we have explored many corners from coast to coast to coast, and we marvel at each turn. We gave up our Danish citizenship to become Canadian citizens and we feel proud and privileged to call ourselves Canadian. To us, this is the best country in the world, and we are happiest when we are here. Canada may not be our native land, but it is our home.

Here we are on the night before we boarded the plane for Canada in 1975

And here we are 40 years later, a little heavier and grayer, doing what we love the most--hiking in the mountains

Into the Mist

The other morning I woke up to a mist hanging in the valley, obscuring the view I so love from our kitchen window. The sun had not quite yet risen as I sat down for breakfast, and it was by chance I happened to look up when I did. What met my eyes was spectacular in an eerie way: the rising sun shone through the mist and reflected off the windows of houses on top of the hill. These little specks of light were suspended in the air, not attached to anything, just reminding me there is something on the other side. I ran to get my camera, but of course it was almost too late by the time I reached the deck, camera in hand. Sunrises are like that. I did manage to capture two little dots of light which was better than missing the moment altogether.

There is something mysterious yet soothing about mist and fog. I got soaked hiking through the pea soup in Newfoundland and could only guess how high the Tablelands are.

I was not able to watch for migrating whales in California because the ocean fog didn’t burn off at all that day, but felt so peaceful walking on Crescent Beach through the migrating patches of fog instead. 

I had no idea what was on the other side of the bridge in Coos Bay on the Oregon Coast, but trusted it would lead me to where I was going.

And then there’s ice fog… hoar frost usually goes with that, encapsulating everything in its way. 

I am so lucky to live in a place where I get to see winter's work of art.

Nature's Goldmine

Last weekend I visited Nature's Goldmine. Enough said...

Big Hill Springs Provincial Park

Big Hill Springs Provincial Park

Big Hill Springs Provincial Park

Allan Bill Picnic Area, west of Bragg Creek

From Secondary Highway 762 between Bragg Creek and Millarville

From Secondary Highway 762 between Bragg Creek and Millarville

What a difference a year makes

Earlier this month I celebrated my birthday. Last year it was a very memorable day for the whole city of Calgary as it was also the day the second major snowstorm in three days occurred. 40 cm of heavy wet snow damaged tens of thousands of trees, some of which are still waiting to be pruned or taken down. “Snowtember” will not soon be forgotten by anyone who was caught in the middle of it.

Our neighbour's willow branches draped themselves over our deck railing during Snowtember 2014

This year I refer to my birthday as “Suntember” because it could easily have been mistaken for a summer’s day. No need for a coat, and I wish I had worn shorts or at least capris on the two walks I did—Nose Hill in the morning and Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park in the afternoon. My “birthday twin” was in town and we spent our birthday together doing the two things we both love the most: walking and taking photographs. Our husbands were very patient with us when the one-hour walks became two hours because we got so caught up in taking pictures! It was fun to have a camera buddy, and we challenged each other with composition and manual settings.

Obviously I didn't take this photograph, but I thought it would make you smile to see it nonetheless

Most of the pictures I took that day were not spectacular and ended up in the recycle bin, but I had such an enjoyable day. Thank you, my friend and "birthday twin," for making it so.

This photograph from the top of Nose Hill intrigues me as the mountains in the background look like clouds

I love the late afternoon light through this aspen grove in Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park

Enjoy the Journey

How many of us have driven the QE2 between Calgary and Edmonton and made a quick stop in Red Deer’s Gasoline Alley for a drink, some fast food, or gas? I see you nodding as most of us just want to get going again so we can get to our destination as quickly as possible. The 299 km can be done in three hours, and that’s not even speeding!

In the past few years, however, we have made a point of stopping for an extended period of time in Red Deer on the journey north or south. I find a couple of hours in the car is all I can handle at a time these days which makes Red Deer the perfect place to explore. We bring a picnic lunch, find a park, and enjoy some fresh air before continuing the drive. Heritage Ranch, Waskasoo, and Fort Normandeau are all great parks we have frequented, but on our latest drive to Edmonton we decided to visit Bower Ponds Park for the first time in a long while.

When we first arrived in Alberta in 1976 we settled in the Red Deer area. We decided on it by looking at a map and found Red Deer conveniently located between the two major cities… good enough reason when you’re 20-something! Members of the Red Deer Danish Canadian Club, who soon became friends, were very helpful in the transition to the prairies. We had no idea what a block heater was and why it was important to have one in our car!

The Club was part of the Red Deer Cultural Heritage Society (then called the Red Deer International Folk Festival), and they had just moved the Cronquist House across the Red Deer River to its present location. Quite the feat when you think about it. Bower Ponds Park was developed around the house shortly after, and today it is a beautiful and peaceful oasis within city limits. A handful of people had the vision 40 years ago to create this place for all to escape to without having to drive for hours. I am thankful they did, and although I was not directly involved in the shaping of the park, I feel connected to it through my involvement with the Red Deer Danish Canadian Club long ago. Spending time in the park both on the way north and four days later on the way south made me reminisce about the six years we called the Red Deer area home, the life we lived, and the friends we made. We were so young and adventurous!

We have all been guilty of getting so caught up in our destination that we forget to enjoy the journey, both literally and figuratively. Maybe it has something to do with my age, but now more than ever I enjoy the journey and reach my destination a little later. I know I am happier for it. So the next time you find yourself on the QE2 heading to Edmonton, do yourself a favour: rent a paddle boat and splash around Bower Ponds for half an hour. I bet you’ll have a little smile on your face the last half of your journey.

Changing Perspectives

In 1966 Jens Otto Kragh, the Danish prime minister at the time, said, “I have a stand until I take a new one.” For a politician, that is either a very smart comment or a death knell, depending on the situation. But it is a comment I can relate to in my personal life. Times change, and as a result my perspective changes, too.

I held on to my 35 mm SLR camera for the longest time after digital photography became the norm. When I finally got my first DSLR camera in 2008, I was very adamant about not manipulating my digital photos in any way. The image was what my eye saw, for better or for worse. Gradually I discovered that if I lightened or darkened an image slightly, I could use the photo instead of having to delete it. Or if I cropped out that distracting branch at the side, the landscape photo became balanced. I don’t think I will ever go so far as to remove a drainpipe from a building, change the colour of the siding, and add a flowering bush like the instructor of a class I took once showed us he had done. Granted, the final image was lovely, but that building does not exist anywhere in real life. He had created an image based on a real building, and if that was his intention, then he did a good job. But he could no longer say, “if you walk down this street in Athens you will find this building.”

When photographing moving water, whether a creek, a river, or a waterfall, I always liked to portray the water as I see it. The softness of a long-exposure water image was something I had never tried or even wanted to do until last week on a hike along Cat Creek in K-Country with my family. But retirement has changed my photography perspective slightly from always depicting the real thing to adding an artistic flair in certain images. When we reached a small waterfall at the end of the trail, I thought to myself, “I want to try this long exposure thing for a change.” The result is what you see below. I am really quite happy with that image, and I’m sure it’s not the last time I try long exposure on water.

Lifelong learning is all about stepping out of one's comfort zone and not being afraid to try something new… and times change.