Öd’ und leer das Meer

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,

You cannot say, or guess, for you know only

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,

And the dry stone no sound of water.

– T.S. Eliot, ‘The Wasteland’ (19-24)



On a mountain road in Banff, Alberta. This is a young male bighorn sheep, probably just over a year old. He was mid-graze when I started to shoot, then struck and held this pose for a few minutes before apparently deciding he’d done enough modelling for one day and wandering off.

Taken in August of 2008

Japanese maple

Dedication plaque outside the Nitobe Memorial Japanese Gardens at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. Autumn (still can’t quite use the word ‘fall’) colours in Vancouver are gorgeous, but there is the tiny detail of the rain, which is incessant. So you have a window of approximately a week to enjoy the colour while it’s still actually on the trees. Soon after that it turns to something halfway between mulch and very pretty mud.

Taken in October of 2007