What a set of photographs we captured this past Saturday. It was probably the most extraordinary camera day ever experienced – Idyllic really. The ocean was alive, still broiling from last night’s storm. A foot of fresh snow blanketed our world, presenting a perfect canvas that accentuated the many brilliant colours nestled throughout. A bright winter sun beckoned with tendrils of warmth that promised an element of comfort for photographers who’d undoubtedly try to capture the added textures imposed on every scape – a dream day for any outdoors enthusiast.
Thus, it was with some surprise that I found not a single foot print on my headland hike, and a world that was completely undisturbed by any human behaviour. Though I’d hiked this route dozens of times throughout the Autumn season, the snow added a whole new dimension to the experience, allowing the stars of the natural world to align, as we lit upon a series of “snow slides” created by a family of sea otters whose winter den was now exposed, far from the crisp ocean winds, nestled in the craggy rocks that dominate the steep banks surrounding the harbour. A healthy marine environment promises an endless supply of feed to support this rambunctious tribe of hungry sea mammals and they had obviously made dozens of trips along this route, undoubtedly laying in a store of food for the long winter ahead.
Despite the snow I scrambled down over the cliffs to better capture the onslaught of waves against the sheer mountain of red conglomerate rock that dominates this coast – found nowhere else on the planet other than Newfoundland and Morocco, Africa. An exhilarating environment that filled me with enough bravado to venture even deeper into the perils of an abandoned WW2 battery whose stairs have been seriously compromised. Well worth the risk given the magnificent foreground shots looking into St. John’s harbour and its infamous ‘Narrows’.
Having survived the morning’s biggest challenges, I was feeling rather smug, giggling as I made my way back to the shop for an opportunity to download the photos and share them. But the God’s were truly working with us that morning, casting a perfect hue of pink and blue behind Signal Hill National Historic Park and Canada’s second most identifiable skyline feature, Cabot Tower. Just as a braced myself and aimed the camera, an eagle, riding the gentle updraft, floated right into the center of my view finder. Click! Click! Click!
Oh my God. Crazy I know – but so were the lights that tinkled against the windows of the fisherman’s homes, hanging precariously from the cliffs of the ‘Lower Battery’, so I diverted into the small boat basin for some added colour and a perfect “Photo Finish”, just as an ‘Oceanex’ container ship rounded the harbour’s dog leg for a straight shot into the ocean blue.
A perfect day – in every way imaginable, with one single exception. When I finally made my way back to the studio, the camera’s memory chip was sitting on the counter, and the only photos I managed to capture were those taken with my mind. Though I was truly brutalized by the realization, I’ve taken consolation in the personal joy and the methods of early explorers, who like me, relied on a thousand words to convey their experience.
Make no wonder Newfoundland’s coat of arms sports an elk instead of our native caribou. Lost in translation takes on a whole new meaning in this brave new world – no matter how advanced we’ve become.
Please enjoy the photos below – taken before and after this most memorable outing.
Otter Slides…
Lichen the snow
Snow Boards
WW2 Battery
Snow Blanket
