Bored and Waiting for the Night It was early Spring in 2020. I looked through my window at the open canvas and wondered what the Sun would paint tonight. A few low-lying clouds in the West streaked across an otherwise clear sky. I had a feeling this would be a gorgeous night for photography. I tossed my bike and camera gear into the trunk of my car and sped off to my secret spot. I refer to it as the North Jetty, and it’s the furthest point on Ferguson Rd. on Iona Island in Richmond, BC. From the parking lot, you can either walk or bike. My preference is the latter as there is some distance to cover to reach one of my favorite places to shoot nighttime photography. It’s still early in the year, and I had only recently bought my tripod, and thus eager to gain more experience. With all the camera gear packed and strapped to the bike, I rode at top speed over the dirt and rock-covered trail. I considered this my daily exercise, so why not spin the crank with some urgency? About 15 minutes later, I arrived at a clearing, and the dirt path gave way to sand, patches of green/yellow grass, and logs of all shapes and sizes. Like a clown, I attempted to continue riding, but the wheels spun in the sand until I decided to disembark. With all my might, I pushed the bike over the logs and through the soft powder dirt until I reached the foreshore of the beach. The wet-packed sand allowed me to mount the bike and ride a steady pace toward the setting Sun. After several minutes of peddling, I parked my 4×4 against a log and prepared for the evening photography lesson. Sample photo from this night. For some reason, this log formation and the way the Sun’s rays were beaming through it gave me a vision. Like Godzilla resting peacefully for the night Night, Camera, Action! With the camera mounted on the tripod, I marched from one spot to another on the narrow jetty, like a roman soldier masquerading across a new frontier. I experimented with various settings, including; slow shutter speed, super low ISO of 50, low angles, etc. Before I knew it, almost two hours had passed, and the Sun was already below the horizon. It was in the final stages of saying good night by throwing its last can of light rays onto the clouds. The canvas was now complete. As darkness fell, I decided now was the time to call it quits and head home. It was challenging to distinguish which log I had parked the bike against, as they all looked the same in the dark. I finally saw the outline of the bicycle, but I could not spot my camera bag. With the phone light on, I looked all around logs in case it had fallen over. I walked to the last shooting spot before turning off the camera, and still nothing. Strange indeed, I could not locate it anywhere, as if the night had swallowed it. I was perplexed. Slow shutter and ND filter effects. Beautiful and a peaceful spot to be alone, and practice photography. Where’s the Camera Bag? Oops! In my excitement to learn photography in an open classroom with mother nature as my teacher, I must have removed the camera bag from my back and set it down somewhere. With the light disappearing quickly, I thought about organizing several logs on the ground as markers and returning in the morning to continue the search. I performed a monetary calculation of the items inside the bag, including the 3 ND filter set, remote, etc., then changed my mind, as it was a bit too much to lose. I said to myself, “Let’s calm down and refocus.” Then backtracked my movement to when I first arrived and the various spots I photographed. Using the handy phone light, I quickly retraced my steps to the exact area where I had removed the bag. “There you are? and a big Yahoo!!!” I shouted out loud. My trusted mountain bike has seen a lot of places, several flat tires, and hundreds of miles, including a trip from Vancouver to Whistler. The Take Away With the camera safely stowed in the bag, I grabbed the bike and rode back along the foreshore. In one hand was the phone acting as headlight, while the other held the handlebar tightly. One sudden turn to the right meant falling and getting wet with the ocean water. Once I reached the dirt trail, I rode carefully but quickly. The path was hard to see, with the phone light bouncing like a ball. At the same time, there was some urgency to make it to the parking lot before the parking lot gate closed for the night. Meanwhile, I had worked up another sweat. Once back in my vehicle and driving home, I wondered what could be changed for the next nighttime outing. My first thought was to invest in a light for the bike and be more mindful of where I put my gear. Oddly enough, I still fumble through all my pockets to locate the camera lens cap every time, especially when I know it should be in the same one. It was another one of those early moments of learning photography. To be a photographer, sometimes you need to remember more than just the camera settings. Also, don’t forget the time, as it will disappear very quickly, especially when you are having fun. Until next time, safe shooting.
Scary Moment
A Picture Says a Thousand Words Preface: A sincere Thank You for making it this far. This is my first attempt at creative writing since graduating from high school. About 90% of it has been for business and technical forms. The common saying is that “A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words,” my challenge now is to take a photo and write a thousand words. Like my photography, I hope to make improvements with the help of this blog. Please excuse any grammatical errors. It’s April 26th, 2020 and humanity is in the midst of a global pandemic. With work, play, and social gatherings banned by governments, my only sense of freedom was photography. With days seemingly long and boring, on this day I was out exploring new areas to photograph and to get some fresh air. At the same time to practice my photography skills with my new Sony A7R camera. The light was not ideal as it was past midday, but somehow, I ended up at Shady Island in Richmond, BC. Standing at the shoreline, I looked across the man-made rock jetty and noticed several herons feeding along the muddy beach. Judging by the height of the rocks, I figured the tide had been out for some time. In the distance, a few people appeared to be making their way back toward the parking lot. After mulling it over for a few minutes, I gave in to my curiosity and slowly walked across the rocks. About halfway along, I stopped to snap a few shots of the herons feeding. Then I came upon a man who was returning from the other side of the island and decided to ask him how far it was to the other side of the island. The person replied, “It’s just a 5 minute hike.” Great! I thought and proceeded on my way. Human Curiosity Is a Strange Thing The photo above was taken around 2:10 pm. The following Google Map shows the location of the island. The dirt trail leading to the other side of the island was lined with many different types of bushes, including wild blueberries. While strolling, I mentally calculated when the tide generally returned around these waters. I figured I was good for another hour or two. It didn’t very long to cross to the other side of the island. Once through the bush, the view gave way to overgrown grass, many washed-up logs, and an open sandy beach that stretched for several miles. I got excited about my journey as this area has very few visitors due to its remote location, and set out to explore the surroundings. There were signs of overnight campers, as a fire pit was situated amongst an opening in the small wooded area by the beach. As well, there lay an old wooden boat that was decomposing over the many years of being washed ashore. This was a very tranquil and beautiful place, I thought to myself as I jumped from location to location snapping away the camera. I had my tripod with me and was experimenting with a couple of filters and settings. This was my first glimpse of Shady Island that majority of people never see (above). An old ship wreck sits on the beach as nature weathers it away (below). Welcome but Be Mindful While fully absorbed in my new surroundings, several people passed by me on their trip back to the shore. I didn’t pay too much attention as it had only been about 10 minutes since my arrival on the secluded beach. In particular, a father and his young son, who was no more than 5 or 6 years old, walked by slowly. I was too busy in my own little photographic world to see the foreshadowing unfolding before my eyes. The boy said something to his father that almost pierced my thoughts but didn’t quite register with my subconscious mind. The young adventurer said to his father in a child’s tone, yet very well articulated, So dad, you were saying that when the water becomes murky, it means the tide is coming in. That is correct son, the father answered as they disappeared down the beach. Meanwhile, I merrily carried on with my shooting. About 10 minutes later, a young couple holding hands passed by me. I greeted them with a quick hello, and they gestured with a slight nod and kept walking. About a dozen minutes had elapsed when suddenly that young boy’s voice came to my forethoughts. However, this time it was amplified and loud enough to startle me as if the child was standing next to me. I looked into the distance to see if anyone else was present on the beach. Unfortunately, it was all void of people, and I was the only one left on this side of the island. I turned my gaze towards the water, and sure enough, it had become choppy and murky, just like the young boy had stated to his father earlier. “One more shot, and then I will head back,” I said to myself like an idiot. But then I felt a gust of air on my neck, and I muttered aloud, “Let’s get the heck out of here, now!” Time to Run Without warning the wind suddenly picked up, and I had this eerie feeling that something wasn’t right. Then I grabbed the camera, quickly threw into the bag, and slugged it over my shoulder. Then proceeded to walk briskly back towards the trail while folding away the tripod. The strange sense of urgency got stronger, and my inner sense told me to run. I had difficulty keeping my balance, as I had to cross over many logs that lay in front of me, and instead thought it was easier to run on top of them. However, I needed a walking stick for improved balance and to use it against any unforeseen challenges that I may encounter ahead. While running, I picked up a piece of