The small songbirds flutter through the underbrush looking for seeds. The beavers seem to be active, but are no where to be seen. Still, their activity is everywhere, a tree here, there, they are up to something besides sleeping.
The Dead Tree Tells Its Story
Cold has frozen the creek and floods from the beaver dams, along with the snow, have flattened the grass. Things usually hidden in the undergrowth are seen in the winter, and they tell winter tales. Most of the fallen trees still have large amounts of soil attached to their roots, but this one has little left other than the skeleton. Even in death it seems to have suffered.
The Fence That Divides Purposes
This image is from a more recent project focused on a small bit of land, on the map called a “nature reserve,” which lies between residential housing and a fairly heavily industrialised area. A fence divides these two, broken in many places and overgrown by saplings that have disrupted its order and continuity. Besides the pathway, creek and fence running through this “natural” area is a freight line. Trains cross the creek, and loudly rumble through the bog and adjacent woodlands. There is no warning except signs telling you not to cross the tracks even though the pathway is clearly marked with steps and elevated boardwalk. An area of many contradictions.
Along the Creek Running Through the Industrial Park
In the Garden, in the Rain.
Near the Coquitlam River, overlooking the bog and mountains.
The Coquitlam River is just 30 minutes from my house. On one side of the river re the mountains, and on the other is a large bog. Most of the area is flat, but small pathways of dirt criss-cross the bog, until finally it meets the cranberry fields were everything becomes uniform. Looking out from behind the brush it doesn’t seem possible there could be any order out there.
The Creek Running Through Town.
A Swimming Pool in the Garden
The Studio Window in the Early Evening
The studio window, early evening. The light, in late July, already changing. The plants still growing relentlessly.
House with Roses, Vancouver.
Looking Over My Shoulder.
I’ve been writing out my thoughts concerning the photographic process I use on my Substack Page. Please take a look, and subscribe…for free…if you’d like to follow what I write, or enter the conversation. https://jimroche.substack.com. This latest note is about looking back to see things from a different perspective while walking. Seems simple enough, but we need to do it more.
A Towel by a Tree in the Bog
Looking towards Hollywood.
On a long road trip from Canada to the end of California. Several well known sites from perspectives other than the usual.
A walk in the garden in the rain in the early spring.
Today the light rain sometimes blurred into “showers.” Alexa said, when she told me the weather, “Don’t let the rain get you down.” Early spring, Sunday, but no gardeners because of the rain. My feet got wet, but the colours and haze kept me walking forward to see what else there was to see. A pain of red gloves, and a worktable of some sort in the woodlands behind the garden. I wanted to stay but my wet feet wanted to go home.
In Praise of Shadows
In Praise of Shadows is a small selection of images from my newest photo project.
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