Definitely a Birb*
"A handsome chickadee that matches the rich brown bark of the coastal trees it lives among, the Chestnut-backed Chickadee is the species to look for up and down the West Coast and in the Pacific Northwest. Active, sociable, and noisy as any chickadee, you’ll find these birds at the heart of foraging flocks moving through tall conifers with titmice, nuthatches, and sometimes other chickadee species."
Source: All About Birds
One of the many cute, curious, and confident — if not bold — chickadees that was perching, flying, and foraging at Beaver Lake last Sunday. Feeding Stanley Park's wildlife is not permitted but these feathered creatures persist in seeking a hand that will feed them. I don't and won't — much as I would like to.
Rays of Light
Emanating from the sun and — as I discovered to my delight while processing the image in Lightroom — reflected from the cyclist’s helmet:
A wonderful, serendipitous convergence of circumstances recorded by the camera’s lens.
“Do not the Rays of Light which fall upon Bodies, and are reflected or refracted, begin to bend before they arrive at the Bodies; and are they not reflected, refracted, and inflected, by one and the same Principle, acting variously in various Circumstances?”
~Isaac Newton
Buffer Zone
Deep, slow inhale and exhale.
I’m posting this just after 5 AM on Wednesday morning because I need (1) to see an image of unexpected beauty and comforting calm from the recent past, (2) to occupy my mind with the familiar routine of working in Lightroom and uploading a finished photograph and (3) to take a brief respite from thinking about this. Not to be in denial or be uncaring, but to slow my racing heart and relax my tense muscles.
Seeking Solace
This morning I’m seeking solace in a recent photograph and memory in the aftermath of the atmospheric river and flooding that has wreaked havoc across southern British Columbia.
At this moment I have no words — only a heavy heart and deeply concerned mind about the present and near future impacts of the climate crisis.
Wood Ducks at Beaver Lake, October 30th
Some people — including I, myself — might say these images aren’t worthy of being published because of the harsh light and my lens choice for wildlife photography. But reading David duChemin’s email this week changed my mind and boosted my confidence as it cogently reminded me why I love to go out into nature and make photographs with my 10 year old camera and nifty fifty.
“Learning, if we choose to do so from the shots that don't do what we hoped they would, is never failure.
Nor is pressing the shutter because it brings you joy to be out there or because using the camera makes you feel more alive, more aware, and more part of the scene in which you're immersed.”