Ah, but how much light? Enough to freeze the wings of a bee in flight? Enough to keep all of a scene in focus? Enough to get a good shot of a small thing, zoomed?
And of what quality? Flat, cold illumination from an overcast sky or warmth from a late-afternoon sun or blue-sky cheeriness?
And coming from where? Straight overhead, leaving no shadows and no real place to stand either, or strongly directional, offering at least the possibility of getting it behind me?
In my ongoing negotiation with my camera — trying to persuade it to record what I see and how a scene feels — light is the trickiest player.
As we made our way around the Cabot Trail, everything changed: the geology, the scenery, the position of the sun, and the cloud cover. So, too, did the photos.
Similar shorelines; different light
Similar beaches, different light.
Same spot, same time, looking different directions.
Stunning, breathtaking, ethereal
ah, the heart swells Canadian!
Your words and photos
inspire the poet
and painter.
Marilyn – Many thanks. We do have some amazing places.
So pretty! of places in the world that I could imagine living, NovaScotia is ONE of them! and I love rock beaches, and always end up bringing home a small sampling in my pocket.
Alison -Yes, I know what you mean about living there. Endless variety in a small package. I did bring home one rock, but from a parking lot.
Looks like the right amount of light to me, Isabel
Beautiful pictures!
Tom
Tom – Many thanks.
I may still have somewhere an unfinished painting of this ocean, luminous rocks, a church tower, and steep pine-clad banks sloping into the limitless water. In stunning clarity, you have reprised all my themes with attention to the Light. So should I.
Laurna – You’re always so kind. Glad you enjoyed them – and by all means, get back at that painting.
My fav is the smaller rocks on the big rock. All are very nice though
Jim – Many thanks – I like it too. I’d like to go back and get it in bright sun, as well as wet . . .
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