An interlude: Taking my camera for drives

Early last year, I decided it was time to challenge myself in new directions. I decided to learn to be a better photographer, learning my camera and lenses and settings, learning to use Lightroom and Photoshop for image storage, organization, and editing. To learn to go beyond taking photos of only plants (and occasionally cats) and to expand my areas of interest. 

I will never be a professional photographer the way some of my heroes are--Freeman Patterson, Ernest Cadegan, John Sylvester, among others--but I learn from each of them from studying their work. I have learned to see in a different way than I once did. And I find the joy not in exotic locales, but around me. I derive enormous pleasure out of exploring my local world. Just shunpiking my way down back roads in Kings County, where I live, or other counties in the province, has yielded me much in the way of photographic delights, adventures and learning. 

What makes a great photo? It's the photographer's eye, to begin with, not the tools. I took the above photo on a cold, blustery day about a month ago--with my iPhone. From my car window. I shared it on Facebook to rave reviews from friends, who loved the mood of it. Which is what I was going for, not technical perfection. 

 This, on the other hand, was taken with tripod, my Canon 70D, ND filter, etc...it also captures a mood. I had just as much fun making one as the other.
What I tell people is this; the camera is like the oven, the photographer is the cook. You create the image, and the camera captures it. Don't think you need a dozen lenses and an expensive camera to have fun and make beautiful pictures.

 There are certain things in my world that I have a deep and abiding love for. Living in Canada's Ocean Playground, on the mighty Bay of Fundy, I am part water creature, and love being near the shore. I adore lighthouses. All lighthouses. This one is at Cape St. Mary's, Digby county, with a little fog playing with the atmospherics.

 I am very fond of crows and ravens, which are extremely clever birds. I caught this one sitting on the fencepost leading to the French Cross in Grand-Pré, and just had to preserve the moment. The crow graciously stayed put for me to get a few pictures before soaring off on important crow duties.

We have a group of artists in Kings County who every year throughout the summer do an outdoor  show around the county called Uncommon Common Art. Every piece is different, in different media, from fibre to metal to found objects and more. This is part of a recent installation, also in Grand-Pré, which is left standing over winter. Can't wait to see what goes up this year.

Naturally, being a gardener, I am very fond of trees, and I find them moody and rewarding subjects any time of the year. During a recent autumn storm, the surf was rocking and rolling along the shore by Halls Harbour, and I loved the steadfast trees, unphased by the weather. 

Another day took me further down the shore into Annapolis County, on a summer day of torrential rainfalls and thunderstorms, resulting in streams full to overflowing and cascading off the rocky cliffs like some sort of a tropical other-worldly place. 

Taking photos of people doesn't really interest me because I'm not good at it and people puzzle me rather a lot. But things that people MAKE is quite another story. Specifically, buildings. Old buildings. Abandoned or otherwise falling-down buildings. I have a huge affection for them, whether it be a seemingly nice, but very much abandoned house like this one, or some of the huge barns that are found all around the province (and elsewhere, but most of my building capturing has been in Nova Scotia. Some in Newfoundland last summer and a little in Iles de la Madeleine, but we'll get to those in due course.)

So, because this is my blog and I can post what I want, some images of life in my part of the world. I'll do this from time to time, and hope you'll enjoy--and more importantly, that you'll be encouraged to take your camera for a walk, or a drive, and see what you can find that makes your heart glad.

Catching up, with an Invitation

It's been quite a while since I posted here, but I think the reasoning is pretty obvious to most fellow gardeners. June in Nova Scotia has been almost as cranky as May was, weather-speaking, and we have to garden when the sun shines, so to speak. Since I decided to increase the size of some of my beds this year, it's meant a lot of extra work, often during less than pleasant gardening weather--either too cold, too hot, or too wet!

As many of my readers know, I've felt a bit like Hank Williams lately..."I've been everywhere"...while on my book promotion tour and the garden club speaking circuit. I'd like to extend yet another bouquet of thanks and appreciation to all those who have come out to the various events, bought books, swapped stories, and been just the fantastic gardening buddies that you all are. It's been a hectic, rewarding spring and I'm honoured by all your support and friendship.

Now it's my turn to give back, or in this case, pay it forward.

My friend Captain Dick Steele passed away in March of 2010, to the sorrow of many, many friends and fellow plant aficionados. Captain Steele was fondly known as Mr. Rhododendron for his passion for these handsome landscape plants, and he spent many years breeding hardy varieties for our climate. Dick was a founding member of the Atlantic Rhododendron & Horticultural Society, and there has been a scholarship endowment set up in his name at my alma mater, the Nova Scotia Agricultural College.

Being a self-employed writer and sorta-photographer, I'm not exactly what you'd call well off. However, I do have a rather large and rambunctious garden, which is ever-expanding because I test so many plants here. I have no idea just exactly how many plants we have in the numerous beds around the property--I should count them but it might scare me! Especially as there are about 50 still waiting to be planted. And that doesn't include the annuals in containers.

So what I'm doing to help raise awareness and funds for the Captain Steele Endowment is holding an Open Garden weekend at our property on July 1, 2, & 3, 11 am-5 pm daily. Admission will be by free-will donation, with all proceeds going to the Endowment fund. I'll have some milkweed plants to give away courtesy of my friend Rob Baldwin's nursery, some of my own plants for a free-will donation, and some books for sale, too.
Yes, that's a puddle from the monsoon we had last night and this morning. Gardening here can be entertaining...

I've stressed before: our property is not the perfect sort of display you'll see at a public garden, or at someone's property that has landscapers designing and/or maintaining it. We do everything here ourselves, and as I noted above, I test a lot of things here to see how they'll do, including plants from Proven Winners, from local nurseries such as Baldwin's and Bunchberry Nurseries. But it's a happy, lush garden, with a lot of focus on pollinator-friendly plants, handsome foliage plants, winter interest, native plants...something for pretty much everyone.

The weather here in Scotts Bay can be highly capricious. Today, for example, we had a bombastic thunderstorm roll through with heavy rain and a bit of hail; then it partially cleared, was sunny in the front yard while more moody clouds rolled up the Bay of Fundy. So while it might be hot and sunny in Halifax--or down in Canning, or two miles up the road--during the July 1st weekend, we're never sure what it might be like here, so please bring foul weather gear if coming to visit that weekend.

For a few more details, including how to get here, please check out the dedicated page here on our Open Garden weekend. I'll relink to it if I do more posts before July 1st, but given the pile of work still needing doing here...there might not be another post til after that! So if you're interested in seeing what it's like to garden on the Bay of Fundy, and contribute to a great cause...we'll look forward to seeing you!

From Corylus to Crocus, March goes out like a Lamb

After nearly a week of galeforce, chilly winds blasting down on us, the last day of March came ambling along like a sweet, fluffy lamb; warm, and soft. The crocuses just leapt into action immediate, popping up like colourful dots all over the garden.

Interview with the Author: Christy Ann Conlin of 'Heave' and 'Dead Time'

One of the coolest things about the writing life is how so many of us make friends with other writers. They may be in other disciplines, fiction versus non-fiction; they may be starting out or experienced, neighbours nearby or friends never met face-to-face; they may be friends we’ve known for years or people we’ve gotten to know recently, through one circumstance or another.

Christy Ann Conlin is one of those fellow writers and friends. I’ve known ABOUT her for years, ever since she burst onto the scene with her brilliant and unique novel, Heave, which was a national bestseller. I didn’t actually get to KNOW her until last fall, when we found ourselves mutual friends of a friend through yes, the social chaos of Facebook. Ironically, we both live on the North Mountain, she closer to Berwick, (my mother’s hometown), and I, hanging off the hill overlooking Cape Split. So we’re neighbours, if busy ones! I’m not a fiction writer, but I am an ardent fan of reading fiction, especially good fiction, and Heave grips you, shakes you like a boat tossed out here on the wild Fundy waters, and leaves you trembling and spent when you finish its pages. It wasn’t surprising that it was in the top 40 finalists for the 2011 Canada Reads on CBC radio, and that ignited a whole new spray of attention for the book.

The official "I wrote a book and it's in stores now" post

As many people who hang around with me on Facebook, Twitter, or in real life know, last year one of my projects was to write a book for Nimbus Publishing of Halifax. That book, Plants for Atlantic Gardens, is in stores now throughout the region, including independent local stores like The Box of Delights in Wolfville, on Amazon.ca, and will be in the US in a couple of months time. Hopefully, it will inspire you enough that you'll want to buy it. But you could also win a book...keep reading for the details.

Private and Public Sanctuaries of the Heart : A book review and giveaway of Sanctuary

Sanctuary: The Story of Naturalist Mary Majka by Deborah Carr. Goose Lane, 19.95 pb.

Author Deborah Carr had known Mary Majka for 15 years when she embarked on a series of interviews with the naturalist in 2003, having been endlessly fascinated and entertained by the older woman’s energy, dedication to nature, and tales of her past. “I felt compelled to write her biography,” she says, and although daunted by the task, the first-time author but seasoned freelancer worried that if someone didn’t begin catching Mary’s life story, it would disappear like the migrating shorebirds around their homes in Albert County, New Brunswick.

From afternoon chats and much research comes the tenderly written and hugely inspiring Sanctuary: The Story of Naturalist Mary Majka, a biographical jaunt that takes readers on a journey spanning decades, continents, wars and resettlement.

Majka, daughter of Polish nobility and long-ago immigrant to Canada, has in her 87 years lived a life that reads like a fairy tale, complete with handsome princes and monsters. In her case, the handsome prince was her husband Mike, to whom she was married for over 50 years; the monster was the specter of World War II, which saw her separated from her surviving family members and imprisoned in a work camp while still a teenager.

Skywatch Friday: The Garden of the mind's eye

Once again, we've come to the end of a year of gardens, writing, plants that came and went, and of course, Skywatch Fridays. This is the first snowy Skywatch for me since last winter, but I can pretty much guarantee it won't be the last one. 2011 looms ahead in a few hours, and although I plan a retrospective or two, they're not for today. Today, I celebrate the return of the sun and the garden of the mind's eye.

Gisela of Guildwood Gardens quoted a phrase from another writer to me last year that I've kept in my notebook of wonderful thoughts. I had been lamenting the lack of sunlight as winter began, and was creating my own sunlight with collections of golden flowers.

Skywatch Friday and a Blaze of Late-Autumn Glory

As with many of my friends and fellow gardeners around North America, I've been dealing with some erratic autumn weather this October. A week or so back, I despaired of having any real good foliage colour in the garden. But the past few days, the wind has died out, we had a couple of very good rains, the evenings have been cool and the days warm. Thursday we were bathed in a crystal blue October day here in the Annapolis Valley, and my camera and garden called me to come out and visit.

The past couple of years, my Hamamelis 'Diane' hasn't displayed much for fall colour because the wind has beaten the foliage off. But this year, the plant has been settled in and growing since 2007, it put on a lot of growth over the summer, and decided to reward me in just the past couple of days with some very satisfying colour.

Much smaller in shrub size at this time, but no less beautiful, is the native witchhazel in my garden, Hamamelis virginiana. It has cast its leaves, but a couple of them lay gleaming in the soggy grass nearby.

It's always fun when you learn about a new plant, acquire that plant, and then discover it in many different locations. This is the Gro-low Sumac (Rhus aromatica), which I read about in the course of doing my book research and which I soon after located and planted. There are a number of these low-growing sumacs planted out in Wolfville, and as they start to put on their fall finery, you can see why. I'm partial to the common Rhus typhina, always, so I knew I'd love this one too.

While I love lilacs in general, most of them flower and then are sort of uninteresting the rest of the season. Not so the dwarf Korean lilac, Syringa meyeri 'Palibin'. Not only does it sometimes put up some late-season blooms, it rewards me with a lovely buttery foliage colour, sometimes suffused with pink. I notice when checking the spelling of the cultivar name that many people don't report fall colour in their 'Palibin', so I don't know whether it's because we have colder weather, or what the story is. But you can bet I'm going to find out.

My hydrangeas are putting on some really interesting colour displays this year, and the most spectacular showoff is the awesome 'QuickFire'. I don't even know how to describe these colours other than mesmerizing. This shrub is planted not far from Miscanthus 'Malepartus', which is actually doing a good colour echo right now.

Some of the perennials are taking this opportunity to throw a few more blooms. The always tenacious catmint 'Walkers Low' is covered in drifts of tiny blue-lavender flowers.

And there are still a few amazingly blue stems of Eryngium planum, flat sea holly, sending up a cooling contrast in the lower front garden.

Finding a flower on my Ozark sundrop (Oenothera missouriensis) this afternoon was a complete surprise and thrill. Even though a bit bedraggled by last night's rain, the flower is still marvelous.

The warm weather prompted quite a bit of insect activity, including this moth on a fall chrysanthemum.

And to finish off the day, the sun rewarded us with an awesome Bay of Fundy sunset, the perfect way to celebrate Skywatch Friday.

Skywatch Friday: The last rose of summer...or not?

Since autumn's official arrival, we've had an amazing amount of wind here on the upper Bay of Fundy. Wind scouring in off the Bay can be hard on plants, tearing foliage off (especially when accompanied by heavy rain) and sometimes doing serious damage to plants and other structures.

This rose, however, photographed in one of the small communities a little further down the shore from Scotts Bay, is oblivious to the weather, still blooming in late October. I have roses still blooming too, but this one right on the shore deserved accolades. So it's my choice for Skywatch Friday.
Meanwhile, it's another windy day here, and the Bay is roiling and threatening accordingly. Hard to believe it's the same tranquil body of water that we go fishing on in warm weather. Those days, probably, are done for this year. And it looks like we're heading into a record breaking season of wind. Keeps the dust down, right?