A Memory of You

•07/27/2015 • 6 Comments

_MG_9971

 

Sitting under the maple tree

The stars glittering through

The canopy of leaves

The moonlight awash over the valley

 

Every night I dream of you

Knowing you will never be there

Your face is slowly fading

Just a memory to remember

 

I think of you

I long for you

My eyes fill with tears

My heart is still aching

It is all I got

It is all I have

Is a memory of you

My cheeks tingle in sensation

Of a hand brushing my cheeks

Of the cool evening wind

 

It was two years past

On a cold November day

I lost control of the vehicle

On the black ice

When I looked at you

I knew you were gone

Holding you in my arms

For the last time

 

I think of you

I long for you

My eyes fill with tears

My heart is still aching

It is all I got

It is all I have

Is a memory of you

 

 

Standing by your grave

I wished you farewell

Tears falling freely

Thinking of our time together

Left a rose for you

A favourite of yours

 

A mist has covered

The valley before me

With the approaching dawn

The stars becoming faint

Like the memory of you

 

I think of you

I long for you

My eyes fill with tears

My heart is still aching

It is all I got

It is all I have

Is a memory of you

Video – A Forest No More

•07/22/2015 • 1 Comment

Shakwa Lake

•07/20/2015 • 6 Comments

Shakwa_3969

 

With a 3 hour drive over logging roads behind us a dream was realized. For me it has been at least 40 years that I had been on Shakwa Lake. For my partner Ron Sirkka it has been 7 years. With great anticipation we loaded the boat. The boat we were using was Ron’s 14 foot aluminum. With a strong north wind at our back, Ron headed for the first narrows. High on a hill stood the fire tower. The first sign of change was low water in these narrows and abundance of weeds. We slowly steered the boat through the deeper water. Then came an old beaver dam with very little water over it. Jumping overboard we dragged the boat over with little difficulty. Both of us now had wet feet. Oh well. Moving on through the channel brought us to another obstacle. Small stones with an inch of water flowing over. Ron suggested gathering pieces of wood to use as rollers. Ron and I dragged the boat over the improvised rollers into deeper water. I ended up to my waist in water at one point. Finally we were clear of the channel. Moving on brought us to the next channel.

The next channel was easier to negotiate. Ron had to clean off the propeller a number of times. The weeds would foul up on the prop. Forty years ago there was a lot more water in these channels. Using paddles to make quick adjustments in direction, we were through. The last channel was filled with stumps hence known as stump narrows. I had to get out of boat to get through a number of spots. The boat was soon moving through open water.

Shakwa Lake is a long narrow lake opening into larger bodies of water. It has quite a number of islands spread out over its length. Surrounded by dense forest and hills. A very scenic location. Home to the Lake Trout. Ron soon had his fishing rod rigged up for trolling and in the water. It was not but five minutes later I heard fish on. Oh boy, the net was still packed away. As I rummaged through my pack for the net, Ron proceeded to lose the fish. I finally got the net ready in case of another hooked fish.

Our campsite was soon at hand. Landing the boat, we soon had the camp gear unloaded. I held off from setting up the tent with the strong blowing wind. I decided to wait until later. I suggested that we eat supper. Ron was happy with that. Ron’s homemade stable was still in place from seven years before. With a full belly of spaghetti, launching the boat, we were soon trolling for lake trout. Our catch that evening was three lake trout between 1.5 to 2 pounds.

We returned to the campsite with the wind blowing steady. We set up the tents quickly. It was time for bed. The sun was down and the wind blowing strong. That north wind blew all night long and never let up. As a matter of fact it blew steady the whole four days we were there. The only difference was it finally swung to the south. It was a cold night with morning being quite cool for July. There was a mist on the water that morning. Though the photography was scarce, I did manage to get a few shots that morning. Using Turtle Rock as my main subject, I captured some wonderful lighting that was golden in color. You can see the tip of an island to the left. This added depth to the photo with the tree covered  shoreline in the background.

Once I had finished photographing it was time for breakfast. Ron who is a very experienced cook when it comes to fish.He was appointed the job by yours truly. I soon had the coffee boiling. Ron and I soon were sitting in our camp chairs sipping hot coffee and eating the so awesome cooked trout. Nothing like fresh fish cooked to perfection.

That was the only morning that I would be able to photograph. So until next time happy trails. Oh, before I forget The Killarney Art Show runs this coming weekend. Do yourself a favor and check it out. While you are there indulge in the famous fish and chips at Herbies.

http://www.killarneyartshow.com/the-details.html

 

Blood Thirsty Mosquitoes

•07/13/2015 • 10 Comments

Spinweb_3423

 

We pulled into the campsite

On a far northern lake

The turquoise blue waters

Of Martha Lake, Algoma

Shimmering around us

 

As expected our northern hosts

Were greedily awaiting our arrival

The blood thirsty mosquitoes

They are not called

The northern scourges for nothing

Blood is what they want

 

The first order of business

To set up the screen tent

This to be our place of peace

From the waiting mosquitoes

The mosquitoes are lining up

Waiting for their next victim

You

 

The next order of business

To erect the tent

With practiced precision

The tent is erected

The sleeping cots in place

Bedding is laid out

The bug coils are lit

To be placed in our shelters

 

I don my bug jacket

The barbeque and stove

Are now set up

The cooler of food

Locked in the vehicle

No need inviting unwanted guests

For an overnight feast

Namely the bloody bears

 

Peace and solitude reigns supreme

Not a soul in sight

It is nearing dust

The wind dying down

The lake becoming calm

The moon edging up

Casting a silvery path

On the lake surface

 

Darkness is at hand

Time to hit the sack

A small lantern hangs

From the tent ceiling

Revealing the mosquito hordes

Lined up on the tent screen

Crawling into my sleeping bag

The light now off

I lie there with eyes closed

Listen to the drone

Of the ever gathering swarm

I had the feeling

Of being the only victim

Within a hundred miles

I guess in the turn of things

We all have to survive

Thus I fell asleep

To the humming sound

Of the north woods mosquitoes

I must be a northerner

Georgia Lake

•07/08/2015 • 1 Comment

Gerogia Lake_3750

 

I loaded up my gear Sunday morning and hit the road. Heading west on hwy 17 towards Webbwood. I then turned onto the Agnew Lake road heading north. I  soon reached the turnoff onto the Westbranch  road. This is a well used logging road. I had to now watch out for logging trucks. With a plume of dust behind me, I was cruising. I truly enjoy travelling these logging roads with the forest on either side of me. Very little traffic. 

My next turn was onto the Charcoal Lake Road. I am now seeing more cut over areas. These are areas that the loggers have clear cut for many acres. Before long I was at the Georgia Lake campsite, being welcomed by an ole prospector named Terry. This gentleman spends his summer here every year. A knowledgeable gentleman that knows the area like the back of his hand.

The tent was soon set up and all the camp gear in place. It was time to unfold the camp chair and join Terry by the lake shore. It was 28 C in the sun. We were sitting in the shade of the trees with a cool breeze off the lake. Very comfortable, plus the bugs were not bothersome. We both chattered away the afternoon. It is with great joy to sit there in the peace and solitude around you. A loon drifted by. The small head of a painted turtle would emerge now and again in front of us. We watched as a beaver made its way by us. There was a Robin making quite a fuss nearby. There was a squirrel nearby disturbing the Robin. The sound of small waves upon the shoreline. Good way for a pair of old-timers to pass an afternoon.

As evening approached the wind was still blowing. By morning the wind was calm. The lake surface still This allowed me to capture the above scene on the far shoreline. Georgia Lake is a small lake in size. The boulders seen here are only located on one side of the lake. This is very common in this part of the country.

While that is it for now. As I will be repacking to head back up to Georgia Lake for more photos. So until next time happy trails.

Streamside

•06/29/2015 • 5 Comments

_MG_1115_3643.

 

I had crossed over from the Tote Road north of Massey to the Westbranch north of Webwood on my journey home. I had spent the day exploring logging roads looking for future photo opportunities. As I traveled south, the evening was wearing on. The lighting getting warmer losing that harshness that is common most of the day. As I crossed a bridge my eyes caught the lighting on this particular scene. The wind was calming allowing for reflections.

The sunlight was coming from the right of me as I set up my tripod on the bridge. The location of the sun was creating sun flares on the lens. I retrieved my Tilly  hat to act as a blocker. Thus holding the hat with one hand and the other to press the shutter button I was able to accomplish the above composition. What is interesting here is how the sunlight highlights certain parts of the scene. There is a lot of softness here with the earth tone colors. There is a quietness to be found here that gives one peacefulness that is very relaxing.

The La Cloche Art show opens next Friday evening July 3 and runs through to July 12. I myself will be there Friday, Saturday, Wednesday and Sunday. If you are in the area stop in and enjoy an excellent art show. Until next time happy trails.

The Northern Scourge

•06/22/2015 • 1 Comment

MarthaLake_Island

 

We made it back last Friday evening to Martha Lake, Algoma. As expected our northern hosts the mosquitoes were awaiting our arrival. They are not called northern scourges for nothing. Blood is what they want. The first thing Maureen and I did was set up the screen tent. The screen tent affords us an area of peace from the bugs. The mosquitoes would line up outside the screen waiting for a victim. You.

Next step was to get our sleeping quarters ready, namely the tent. With practiced precision the tent was erected. The sleeping cots set up and our beds were made. Maureen lit the bug coils for each location and had them placed in the sleeping tent and screen tent. Donning my bug jacket I set up the barbecue and stove. Both these essential items run on propane. I left the cooler in the Ford escape for the night. No need inviting unwanted guests to the feast overnight. Namely bloody bears. We had the whole lake to our selves. Not a soul in sight. Amen. I wonder sometimes who is smarter, me or the folks who stayed home. I must be a true northerner.

It was getting near dust now and the lake was quite calm by this time. Out came the tripod and camera. Let me tell you when you stand by the lake shore, you become surrounded by the mosquito hordes. To take a photo you have to be quick about it. I have to remove the head portion of my bug jacket to photograph. Before shooting I wave my hand in front of the lens to clear these bugs. If not, you will find round splotches on your photo.

Darkness was fast approaching. Camera gear was put away. Time to hit the sack. Crawling into my sleeping bag was a relief. A small light hanging from the tent ceiling revealed the mosquito hordes on the outside of the tent screen. I had the feeling of being the only bloody piece of meat for a hundred miles. I guess in the turn of things we all have to survive. Thus I fell asleep with the droning of the north woods mosquitoes in my ears.

Tomorrow is another adventure. So until next time happy trails.

 
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