A glacier Instagram photo of mine was commented upon at the end of the day that we “Just went for a little hike today…”. “Just a hike?”, and I replied with the truth… “And an involuntary swim”.

We knew two things for sure when we arrived to Skaftafell National Park. One, that we were going to go to the glacier. And two, that we didn’t want to pay to be part of a restricted glacier walk. We all had virtually brand new hiking boots with vibram soles which obviously wasn’t the same as having spikes on the bottom of your shoes, but how could we go wrong, really? Well, I could walk down a three foot wide crevice with a few thousand dollars of camera gear strapped around my wrist and another couple thousand dollars worth strapped onto my back, take a few steps forward and on my fourth step fall right through the ice below me into the glacial waters. That’s how.
It was almost like I had done this before though, because like a seasoned veteren would have, I caught myself by the elbows on the edge of the crevice, and held myself from plunging underneath probably just a few thousands of tons of ice. And after a couple of really calming thoughts like “I’m really in trouble here” with my legs dangling in glacial water, my elbows the only thing keeping me from drowning, and both girls about 15 feet above me at a 75º angle on the glacier, I pulled myself out with nothing more than a scratch or two on the palm of my hand, and a few waterdrops on my camera lens.

I was going to tell you about sliding around on iced over paths, staircases, sides of a mountain and everything else behind a waterfall before the glacier experience, but it’s just too pathetic in comparison now, so just enjoy the photos and take comfort in the fact I’m here to blog about much more to come.

For a while, there was a bit of a recurring theme happening when I was in Yellowknife. If Jen stayed home in Vancouver, I went to the ice caves. And like any genuinely loving, well meaning boyfriend would do, I text her a few photos of what she missed. After all, they’re only ice caves. It’s not anything really spectacular like incredible frozen formations that our spectacular planet produced entirely on it’s own that are so perfect, and so breathtaking, you couldn’t dream up how it feels to stand before them. It wasn’t anything like that at all, so I couldn’t understand why she was making such a big deal of it. Never the less, I couldn’t stand listening to her complain about not having seen them yet any longer jumped at the first opportunity we had together and happily obliged to take her to them.
Another small reward of not… forgetting about schoolwork, but… confirming you work well with a quickly approaching deadline, is you get to hang out under the northern lights. There was a weekend last Autumn I went to Yellowknife without Jen, just before she left to India, and it was the first time I had ever really seen purple aurora with my eye. Again, wanting to share my experience with her even though she wasn’t with me, I text her what I saw, and well… I probably shouldn’t include the screenshot of text messages she sent me in response to the photo I shared with her guided by my best of intentions. But there was nothing to worry about this weekend, because she stood beside me (with a gun to my head until I set up her ALUMINUM tripod for her, at -33ºC) and savoured another awesome night together under our favourite thing in the entire world.

In a recent trip, I stayed with a new friend in Yellowknife who said something I loved. Something I loved, and something I couldn’t help.

“I heart the fact that he hearts the north. He was willing to face the -40 temps to venture out to Yellowknife’s best hidden treasures. That adventure is hard to find sometimes.”

There is actually more to Yellowknife than the northern lights. I know, hard to believe, and you’d never guess it if you only knew Yellowknife by my blog, but it’s true. There’s a lot of amazing in a place this far north, this accessible by foot. As long as you’re covered nose to toe in Canada Goose attire. And while it isn’t always the most comforting feeling to lose the majority of feeling in your fingers because through your gloves you’ve held onto a metal camera body for a total of a minute and a half, there are methods back to ‘warmth’. You learn very quickly that once you make that fist inside your glove to keep your feeling in your fingers, you can’t go back to individual fingers because without your body warmth filling the rest of the glove, it is now negative thirty something like the air that freezes your nose hair.

We caught the aurora for a little bit through some pretty heavy cloud this night, and when you’re crazy enough to sit out in temperatures that low, there’s such a rush of exhilaration when the clouds break just a little bit.

Wild horses couldn’t stop me. It wasn’t our usual weekend. There wasn’t going to be two of us this time, it was just me. I wasn’t staying with anyone I had met before, but in the north, you don’t worry about that sort of thing anyway. The temperatures weren’t even going to be comfortably uncomfortable, they were just uncomfortable. And discovered as recently as 24 hours ago, not only does ice fog roll into Yellowknife and frost everything in the most beautiful white I promise you’ve ever seen in your life, but it also takes a… dry, tolerable? -40°C to -40°C with 100% percent humidity. Which is really fun. But there’s one thing that was the same, my eager anticipation of what unexplainable beauty the hours upon hours of sunrises and sunsets would bring by day, and how the lights would dance, or not, come night.

There are no guarantees the lights will come play, even on the most perfect long winter nights of clear weather, but I can tell you this time, going four for four on nightly aurora viewings was something really special. More to come.

They say when you don’t know where to start, go to the beginning. So Thursday night, like they always used to be, Jen and I spent it packing after we were both off work late. Stuffing, cramming, sitting on on our little black 22″ suitcases for our early morning departure to the great (almost all white) north. Have you ever tried to pack everything you need for days and nights spent outdoors photographing, hiking, and standing around for hours in the high teens? Wait, the NEGATIVE high teens. You know, -18°C into the low twenties. Only, the low twenties this weekend. We may as well have been in shorts, hey, Yellowknife? Wait a minute, …hey, Jason?

Jason is a very good friends of ours up in Yellowknife who, in the Winter at least, has a habit of making Jen & myself look like the biggest, most pathetic, un… Canadian like ‘Northerners’ in all of the country. I go out in boots, long johns, snow pants, and my beloved Canada Goose parka – Jason goes out in hikers, jeans, and a light bomber. If you’re unfamiliar with his work, do yourself a favour and enjoy a few hours here. Or don’t, because if you do, you’re likely to never come back here, and I like it with you here.
The three of us spent an afternoon avoiding Canadian shield dynamite blow-outs along the Ingraham trail toward Cameron falls, and then one of the most breathtaking sites I’ve personally I’ve ever seen in Canada. And while this trip didn’t end with that sky-filling, purple and green dance Samantha, Jen & I have become a little too accustom to, it was by far, one of our most memorable yet. And we’ll be back for more, real soon.

i was convinced that after our captain decided to cancel our port of call at the falkland islands because the seas were too rough to dock, that the world, as we knew it, was over. you couldn’t take all the ice of antarctica to make me enough margaritas to feel better. a couple hours of off-roading with a local guide to eventually hit a white sand beach where we would meet three different kinds of penguins, dozens of birds, and sea lions. i don’t think i was unreasonable in my belief that the end of the world may as well have followed the cancellation of port stanley.

wouldn’t you know it though, while my brother and i hammered out our frustrations against each other on the ping pong table, our aunt went straight to the shore excursions desk to book up three of the last five spaces available on the only other penguin tour this season. unless we were going to fly from punta arenas, to antarctica, to spend the winter huddled with the penguins. which i had no problem with, but apparently it’s still pretty expensive, and kind of cold.

we’ve all hit that point somewhere in a day where your cheeks become physically sore and it’s the most painful thing in the world to keep laughing and smiling, and if you’ve never experienced that in your life, well… i’m really sorry, and you should probably come hang out with me more. i can’t begin to describe how amazing this was. it’s a lot like watching the northern lights. you just sort of… stand there, admire them, and laugh because you don’t really know what to say. but i can tell you that i’ve mastered the sounds magellanic penguins make. and i can also tell you that this day started off with my brother throwing a pillow at me at six in the morning to get me up for the sunrise. it was the best sunrise i’ve ever seen in my life. followed by one of the best days i’ve ever had in my life. and now, it’s one of my favourite blog posts. enjoy, friends.

SLIGHT situation? try a low level hostage situation. well it really all depends on how dramatic you want to be, and how deeply you want to read into argentina’s situation with the brits, the falkland islands, and apparently, everything in between the two. literally. talk about getting caught in the middle.

i walked off the ship, took a hundred steps, and went running back onto the ship because someone forgot their monies back in their cabin. so, for the second time in fifteen minutes, i walked off the ship toward town. i fell in love with the place. i mean, really fell in love with the place, even though my iphone and their free wifi at the tourist office were having an elongated disagreement. the town has quirks. streets steeper than everest. flights to the white continent. and the ocean walking distance to the mountains.

ushuaia, coincidently, and uninfluential on my love affair of ushuaia, just happens to be the gateway to antarctica. except we arrived on a sunday, where every office, and every shop were closed. which, as far as getting to antarctica goes, means i would get back on the ship at departure time, still have a job when i got back home, and not be short several thousand dollars. for now, anyway.
not everything was closed this sunday, although they may as well have been – the argentine port authority were there… sort of. as our departure time from port came, and passed, we didn’t move. the only thing moving in the harbour was our captain, standing in the bridge of the ship, pacing. apparently, the argentine government had a letter for us to sign, stating we had not been to the falkland islands. and apparently there was another letter for our captain to sign, stating that along with his country, the netherlands, he believed the falkland islands should be argentinian, not british. well, a few hours late, three to be exact, holland america’s head office sorted something out, and we push away from the dock in ushuaia. late enough to sail through fjords, and past one of the most spectacular glaciers in south america, while it’s pitch black out.

so as easy as it would be to say, “argentina, you lose. i’m done.”, i don’t, because as frustrating, bothersome, and costly as politics can be on travel plans, i know that a real country is not about the government, their policies, or games. a country is just where you and i call home. and there’s a whole lot of amazing you and i’s all over this globe, calling a lot of different places home. all with the same love-fuelled, heart-warming, welcome to our beautiful corner of this planet earth, smile. and for that, ushuaia, argentina, you win.

“CAPE HORN?!? man, i wish i could kick that off my bucket list, that’s a once in a lifetime experience!”

i’m a weather guy. in the same way i’m a turbulence and rough seas guy. for me, there’s nothing better than experiencing the best and most extreme this planet has to offer. and if you’re down around cape horn, you’re probably very similiar. or you’re very, very lost, and you’ll want to get out in a hurry. but it wasn’t that bad, which means if you really tried hard, you could make it to the railing on the top deck against the winds. and it’s not to say the ship didn’t hit significant swells, or list and throw everyone into walls, because it did, but it felt eerily calm knowing the waters we were sailing. in the moment, it was the changing skies from a hail storm to momentary sunshine before another downpour, all in about five minutes, on a continuous cycle, with a landscape you couldn’t dream about that took my breath away. but in the larger picture, it was knowing that i was at the literal end of the earth, and that a few hundred kilometres to our left, was antarctica.

once in a lifetime? bucketlist? yeah, probably… in the same way the aurora borealis were a once in a lifetime opportunity for me too. something i’d go see to say i’ve seen it. hardly. i don’t live that way. i go for the magic of the moment, and the countless moments that take your breath away. and those moments, wont ever just be, once in a lifetime.

i love my life. all this delicious variety, and beauty beyond which can ever be expressed in physical form. this is what i did today. this is my job. where i work.

Sitting on my baggage tractor, it’s kind of neat to turn around from facing the sunset to see the observation deck lined with people, just like me, holding their cameras loving the moment almost as much as me. Some days I’m inspired to bring my 5D, others I make peace with my iPhone4. These are a mix of both.

You don’t have to tell me about image 7 (but you can), because trust me, I know. I’ve labeled it the most beautiful sunset of my life. And believe me, I’ve seen a few.

How magnificent is a half moon in clear skies rising across the south sky while the aurora plays in the north sky? It’s pretty close to perfect. Especially as the sweetest young couple out with us from England decided to get engaged under this night sky. He knew exactly how perfect the moment was, and even from the distance, each of us were as overjoyed for them as they were. It can be difficult to imagine something so completely breathtaking become even more so, but it happens.

I’m just extremely thankful Kjetil didn’t point out the fox holes I stumbled over numerous times sooner than he did or there would’ve been no way I’d have fought my way through the two feet of snow all over to obtain some of these foregrounds. So thanksverymuch indeed!

I didn’t focus on a photography trip. I let go of travelling through a camera lens for a week, and I may feel a little disappointed in myself for it because there were moments I wanted to share with the world. Skies I wanted to share with the world, and moods I wanted to share with the world, but unfortunately, for you, I’m selfish. Instead of frantically pacing around the centrum during twilight with my tripod frozen to my hands because it’s -15, I just stood back, took a deeper breath than I usually would have and laughed at the perfection of all of it.

I don’t have to tell you about the details of things clicking in my life, I’m absolutely certain I’ve shared enough of that in the past few months to make most of you either physically sick or so jealous you’d sort of want to take my tripod and club me over the head until you felt better. I do want to express immense appreciation for this experience already. Being invited to stay with a family half way across the planet is one of the greatest… blessings, for lack of a better word, I have experienced. It’s the fact Kjetil is my clone in his natural appreciation and love for life, having the experience to chase the aurora for several nights straight from the fade of twilight to the wee hours of the morning is one thing. Really feeling a sense of family with he, his wife, and his two kids is something ten thousand times more meaningful still. It didn’t matter if it was the home cooked meals every single evening, the grocery shopping, the cups of coffee, or Irene – Kjetil’s wife, caring for me on my last evening there when I allowed myself to become physically sick at the thought of leaving Tromso. I actually don’t think I’ve ever been so appreciative in such a short period of time, it really is life changing. It’s just the way you allow yourself to become in life, to expand to that new place whether it’s a country you’ve now been four times or not. It doesn’t matter, because nothing stands still, and perhaps that’s why this all feels so new to me again.

On a side note, I cannot watch the Notebook. Certainly not in public. I’m actually typing this post from 38,000 feet over Greenland and having just finished that movie on my PTV – I’ll tell you I had to pause it more than once to fiddle and focus on anything else but the movie or I probably would’ve flooded our aircraft, and I can’t imagine that would’ve been an ideal scenario. Embarrassing much? And here I am telling you, world. Yeahyeah, I can’t fake me. That’s for sure.

If you’re here to compare posts with previous posts, then it’s probably best to close this window before you read much further. After only a few nights of chasing the northern lights, one of the most important things I’ve learnt is how completely futile it is to compare one evening to another. In fact, not only is it impossible, but it’s really the quickest way to lose the feeling of pure exhilaration that is observing and chasing the aurora borealis. No two displays will ever catch up with one another, and each has it’s own very distinct beauty. This evening was certainly far less dramatic, but it was ridiculously beautiful filled with a certain magic that is, once again, impossible to describe with words from a place of not being directly under the aurora itself.

I cannot recall, for the life of me, a time where I have felt more love, more appreciation, and more enthusiasm for being here on planet Earth. I just can’t. Even now beginning to put together this post, I’ll include a photo into the area below and the very feeling of that moment washes over my body. Goosebumps and all, zipping up my jacket so quickly I cut my lip wide open and all, throwing my arms in the air, my hands on my head and all.

To quote Kjetil… “It is one of the best nights so far this season.” But it was cold. So cold. The wind howled at the water where we started, dropping the temperature to below -20, easily. We took a chance and headed inland just after 10p to a beautiful valley you’ll be seeing more of (think camping with a bonfire), where it was much cooler – but felt a million degrees warmer without the wind. Enough words, here’s sight of our Wednesday evening…

I’m not sure if you’ve seen her, because she loves a fun, tireless game of hide & seek but when she comes out to play – she plays, endlessly. If you’ve seen her, you know there aren’t words that accompany these moments. In fact, there aren’t even words to help define the sight of her or re-live these moments away from her. You just… you can’t describe it, you… you have to see it, you have to stand in the -12 for six hours in snow a foot and a half deep, surrounded by the Norwegian mountain scape and the dead silence of the valley.

I recently asked a friend what their favourite thing about planet Earth was. Her response was two words that were definitely unexpected, but I thought were incredibly profound…

“It’s diversity”.

Perfect words. I am definitely appreciating the contrast of our time & place. It’s a beautiful world, on all levels of beingness.

I work at the airport. I’m one of those guys you see way down on the ground running around your aircraft making sure your bag & cargo arrive safely with you. I drive those funny looking machines in impossible spaces pulling up to multi-million dollar aircraft. I’m one of those guys, but as people find out I do a little of that job and have been for some time, they often say “Well you are, but you aren’t really one of those guys. You aren’t like that.” …And it’s true really, it’s not the sort of work you see a delicate, romantic souled photographer involved in. In fact, is there a more odd mix around?

And since I started at the airport a few years ago full-time, I’d take my camera with me everyday just in case there was that one special aircraft coming in, or some extraordinary sky. So while now when I go in for my few days every month at the airport, I rarely bring my camera. Without a doubt since I returned home from Helsinki about three weeks ago, I’ve had any inspiration escape me completely – I left the house for work on Monday, and when I got about a minute from the house I had the irressistable urge to turn back and grab my camera. If you know me at all, I always give into any inspired action, so I turned back, threw my camera in my bag and marched off to work…

It’s an extraordinarily powerful universe when you open yourself up to listening…

That folks, is a hail storm. I walked right through it to the metro station from the dock.

I love to live my life based on the most simple pleasures. I just enjoy open spaces, I love unusual cloud formations and watching them change while they fly overhead. I love vivid colours – I don’t care if it’s a dilapidated wall, the sky, or an open landscape seemingly entirely inaccessible to anyone else on the planet, or maybe it was just that wind detering them from coming. Suomenlinna is all of these things for me, especially during the Autumn. The weather was cool, most certainly crisp and entirely unpredictable. The day ended with an awesome hail storm, and a bucket full of images – most of which aren’t here. Yet. But many favourites are, so enjoy!

Our last few days was a total mixed bag as far as scenery, weather & adventures go. After I spent a couple of hours on the deck watching for any Aurora activity after leaving Juneau, we arrived in Skagway the following morning to a lot of fog, a lot of low cloud and about 6,000 cruise ship tourists in a town of 800 people. Thankfully, we stepped off the tourist trail 15 minutes and had the entire mountains to ourselves.

The next solid day and a half at sea was spent rocking around at the mercy of the Pacific Ocean. We missed our call at Ketchikan with gale force 11 winds – hurricane force winds! While there were a lot of people taking part in the whole sea sickness idea, I found the entire experience exhilarating! To me, there was nothing more exciting than watching from the windows, and from our balcony, the waves crash up against the front of the ship sending us up high to come crashing back down again! I was in love with every single moment of it! Except when the winds were gusting the 110 km/h and I couldn’t physically push our balcony door open! Hah!

While some of you have probably seen enough of Alaska from me to last a lifetime, I still haven’t and I know I’ll be back, probably next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. Thank you for the complete abundance of blog love for this entire series, it makes it all the sweeter to me! When we docked at 7am Saturday morning, I rushed off to second shoot a wedding with Jamie Delainey which is all prepared and will be surfacing on my blog here in a couple days!

We're docked in Skagway!

Scott & I opted not for any organized tours in Skagway, and explored the area through some solid hiking up to a region of lakes…

Sad sight leaving those Arctic waters for the Pacific again.

Let me tell you, the waters might not look like much here – but they were in fact pretty violent out there!

The Diamond Princess we were following home turning around!

Just a little on the rough side…

If only it was like this the other six nights…

This was the 5:30am morning. I go on an Alaskan cruise for a vacation, and over the period of a week, I don’t think I’ve ever accumulated such little sleep in my life. Except that one week last year at the airport where I worked a 36.5 hour shift which turned out to be 101 hours in 7 days, but that’s a whole other story! I’m all about depriving myself of everything comfortable for nature, but not for throwing your 70lb bags inside of 737s! So again, my alarm was set, and I eventually stumbled out of bed to answer the knock at our door for our breakfast. Enjoyed that, and then spent just about the remainder of the day out on our balcony, and out on the top deck.

It’s really hard to bring words into this series of images that can even… remotely come close to giving you a sense of how overwhelmingly beautiful it is up there in Glacier Bay, and the whole of Alaska for that matter. It’s really, really surreal – and I think that’s the only way to say it, so hopefully my images speak a little stronger. If that day solidified one thing for me, it’s that one of my next stops in life is going to be Antarctica.

A few seconds before it happened, a huge thunder erupts from the glacier and what follows is the calving seen in the centre of the frame here. Totally the wrong lens in this moment, but incredible all the same!

Someday…

For all you camera officionados out there… MarkII, ISO 12800 in moonlight. You decide ;)

You can probably imagine setting the alarm on your phone for 6am after going to bed past midnight. And you can probably imagine the feeling you awaken to when the alarm starts to chime out of your phone at exactly 06:00am. While it wasn’t at all like that. I gently reached over and turned my Nokia over to stop the alarm, and very slowly as my eyes started to take in some of the morning light pouring in through our windows, I managed to squint hard enough at the balcony to see a beautiful teal colour hitting the white ceiling.

Not long after, room service arrived with an abundance of fresh fruit, baking, juices & everything delicious imaginable at our door, and we, for not the first, or the last time, enjoyed breakfast in bed calling out icebergs floating by our ship on our way up Tracey Arm. And so, until it felt ‘unscenic’ enough for at least 15 minutes so I could get washed – I’d hop from bed, into my robe over my jimjams, out onto the balcony staring off into Alaska looking probably just a little dumbfounded, breath-taken, and perhaps just a little overly excited…

Yeah… probably the best view I've ever had while enjoying breakfast.

Stole my toque!

Docked in Juneau!

When we tied up in Juneau at just past 2pm, I knew I wanted another taste of icebergs. I had to have more, and I didn’t want to wait until we explored Glacier Bay back on M/S Zuiderdam in 48 hours. I couldn’t wait that long. I didn’t want to pay the $3 for a bus ride the few hundred metres into town, so I dragged all five of us by foot into Juneau. Somewhere along the way, we ran into a little booth selling every tour imaginable at every price imaginable. “Bus to Mendenhall Glacier – $7 each way”. Done. I didn’t need to see anymore, no one needed to say anymore – I wanted to go. Now.

Got off the bus and into the visitor centre area with the other 83,275 people who arrived off a cruise ship in Juneau today. We walked the paved path out to the fenced photo spot. Grand, as you can imagine. Saw a group of people (specs) off in the distance standing near the waterfall.

Sean: “Surely, there must be a way to get out there. Has to be.”
Scott (brother): “Probably. And don’t call me Shirley.” (Hah! Airplane reference! Anyone?!)

So wouldn’t you know it, off to the side of this paved path along the way is an unmarked trail leading in the direction I wanted to go – closer to the glacier. Without a moment of hesitation, we jumped on it. Rode the trail out for 10-20 minutes, and were right out there. Glacier straight ahead. Waterfall crashing down to the right. Not another sodding tourist for miles.

Believe me, if you had to listen to our bus driver talk the entire twenty minutes to the glacier – you'd have that face on too. Haha, my brother!

Look at the size. It's astounding. Look at my brother on the far right. AHH…

Absolute favourite.

So last, last Saturday I literally dropped everything, got on board M/S Zuiderdam with Holland America and cruised up the inside passage to some incredible scenery, untouched waters, and cute towns leaving behind my phone, internet connection and just about all else. Heading North, so much of the breathtaking scenery was back toward the coast and thus, on the right side of the ship – which just happened to be where our suite was with the 100sq ft balcony. As much as I love sitting on our balcony with room service & a good book, there is something far more exhilarating about having the wind send chills down my spine on the top deck leaning over the railing breathing in every last bit of fresh air while feeling as though we were sailing through the ends of the Earth.

Good-bye Vancouver!

Good morning, day number two! (Mum had an inside cabin, so she rather loved our oversized balcony…)

Waaaayy out of focus, but it's one of my favourites.

I literally ran out of the formal dinner downstairs to get to the deck as I had a feeling in my stomach about the sky out there. Woah.

If you’ve been reading for some time, you know I’m obsessed with nearly all 542 images from this trip – so I do just have to break this into a four part series, because I just can’t narrow anything down. I can’t. Honestly. I was up til 2:30am this morning just trying to figure how to organize these posts while keeping each of them under 130 images, and I’m still not sure it’s sorted.

Cute couple! They were sitting right in front of me on the ferry over!

Finland is like an entirely different country in the summer than it is during the Winter, which is the only time of year I’ve visited before.  Summer… the weather is gorgeous, the winds are warm, the daylight is forever (literally), and the greenery is astounding.  And so, as much as I love the long, dark, cold Winters here – this is such a nice change!  Just a ten minute ferry ride off the harbour of Helsinki lies Suomenlinna, a fair sized island home to just 700 people.  The weather was thee most perfect it could’ve been for a day of exploration over there, and far better than the just above freezing temperatures with horrendous winds the last time I visited.

Friday morning Anna & I headed up to her dad’s summer cabin about an hour outside of Tampere (North of Helsinki), and it was going to be a little vacation within these travels for me almost.  Well, it turns out that as we relaxed and lightened up everything still continued to flow into our experience.  About 1am on Saturday morning (Friday night), Anna decides to switch on her mobile and see a missed call from a potential client.  Essentially… “We’d love to have you come photograph our wedding today at 4pm back near Helsinki, and we’ll even cover your travel expenses!”  We had just spent thee most calming day out in the wilderness, and oh, I enjoyed it so much but sometimes you just get that inhibition to go do something and this wedding had it.  We’re both really glad we decided to make the effort to get back in time for the wedding, we had a blast!

The cabin experiance was remarkable, and for about the last 15 minutes of the drive I couldn’t even speak.  Anna, why didn’t you shoot that video?  The countryside turned so quickly from fields of wildflowers into dense, overgrown forest and flipped instantly back to a wheat field.  It was some of the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen in my life, and I’ll say I’m glad I didn’t live it through my camera lens.  When we arrived at the cabin, the weather was looking preeeetty promising aside from the gaile force winds really.  The sunshine was out for the most part, but as the evening drew in so did the clouds & the rain so the dream of taking star trails over a still lake is again on hold.  But who knows, perhaps this trip will prevent an even better opportunity for it.  Enjoy the beautiful Finnish countryside!

The little cabin, hand built by Anna’s dad!  It’s so distinctly Finnish I can’t even tell you.  No running water, just electricity and very naturally, a wooding burning sauna… sow-na.  Sow-na.  Sow-na.  Not saw-na.  We had a little tent set up for me outside just on the edge of the forest out back.  It poured rain all night long, and was deliciously soothing sleeping to it!  For all you camera officianados out there… shot of me is ISO 6400 & light from my itouch!

These two images taken just after 22:30, and it’s heavily cloudy.  It doesn’t get dark, or anywhere close to it and wow, does that do amazing things for my energy level!

Early evening, Anna & I saw how excellent the light was (from a portrait photographers standpoint) and took a little hike up the gravel road for a slight change of pace of walking through cobwebs & ant hills in the forest.  Turns out she’s got a little model in her after all, just don’t ask her to say the word massage…

Doesn’t it feel exhilarating to get there and mix it up in the beautiful summer weather?  Flowers in bloom, bicycles on gravel paths, kites being taken around in the wind, the tall grass blowing together in a certain direction and the comfortable warmth of that summer sun on our skin.  It’s a beautiful time indeed.

Let your clarity in. It’s beautiful.

Mother Earth is the most abundant source of love & well being I could ever imagine.  It is pure deliciousness.  She never demands our appreciation to continue blooming.  She is there for us always.  She is the most magnificent reminder to us in our connection to Source.  Is this not a heaven experience?  Come to appreciate your senses in this phenomenal physical body, and your eternal connection to all that is joyous & abundant here on Planet Earth and maybe, just maybe, we’ll know all is well.

Just as I stepped out of my bedroom here to go and brush my teeth, I noticed the stove light was on downstairs.  I sighed not wanting to walk down and switch it off, but I thought of the Earth and it hit me – it doesn’t take very much.  So I went back and turned the light off.

Woke up this morning with a blinding light reflecting up to my window and through my blinds… SNOW!  More snow!  I’ve probably seen more snow this year in Vancouver than combined last 22 years here.  If you are reading this from across the planet, and bless your socks if you are, Vancouver no longer receives any rain.  Only sunshine, and if there’s precipitation – it snows.  That’s the latest trend out of this west coast city.  And looking ahead – sunshine.  Sunshine forever in the long term forecast, and may this abundance of creativity continue it’s flow through me!

11°C and stunning sunsets… we’ve just begun February?  Nothing like a little of Mother Earth’s glory and those beautiful flying machines out on the Pacific Ocean.