Where is Wally?

A sky filled with bald eagles

2010-01-25T20:19:51Z

If someone were to tip you off to a place where you could see 40 to 50 bald eagles soaring and diving or sitting patiently in nearby trees, you're likely to conjure up a vision of some wild river, teeming with salmon, in northern British Columbia or Alaska.

You're right, but you're wrong. It could also be a farmer's field in Kings County, Nova Scotia. With all due respect to our friends out west, the rural community of Sheffield Mills, about an hour's drive from Halifax, boasts one of the largest concentrations of bald eagles on the east coast.

And if you want to see them up close and personal, all you have to do is synchronize your watch with feeding time at any one of a number of chicken farms scattered throughout Kings County,

Better still, take in the annual Eagle Watch Festival at Sheffield Mills and enjoy a pancake and sausage breakfast at the community hall after watching the eagles have their morning meal.

More than 20 years ago, long before the festival was ever thought of, chicken farmers in the area were wrestling with the problem of what to do with chickens that died of natural causes during the course of being raised for market.

They began depositing the carcasses of these unfortunate fowl beside their barns and before long crows, seagulls and the rare bald eagle or red tailed hawk began to appear, looking for an easy meal.

As the years passed, the bald eagles went from being a rarity to becoming quite common. Today there are estimated to be over 400 mature and immature bald eagles spending their winters in Kings County.

There's the catch, you have to come in winter, between December and March, if you want to see them in any numbers. After the breeding instinct kicks in, in early March, they are off to other parts of Nova Scotia, particularly Cape Breton Island, and further north to Newfoundland and Labrador. No amount of free handouts is going to keep them from pairing up and nesting to raise another family of young.

Over the years, travelling to Sheffield Mills and surrounding areas to see eagles became a popular pastime for Nova Scotians and visitors to the province, particularly photographers looking for that once in a lifetime photo of a majestic eagle in flight.

Being a photographer, I was also drawn to Sheffield Mills for the first weekend of the two- weekend Eagle Watch Festival together with a raft of other photographers and birding enthusiasts, and l managed to snap off a few 'keepers'.

That was last Saturday (Jan. 23). If you missed out, you can take in the second weekend of the festival on Jan. 30 & 31. And don't forget the pancake breakfast . . . the maple syrup and blueberry topping is to die for . . .

If you can't make the festival itself, the eagles remain in the area throughout the winter where they are fed regularly by the chicken farmers. So keep an eye on the sky . . . where you see eagles soaring there is usually a free meal waiting to be had (not for you, for the eagles).

The Eagle Watch Weekends take the guess work of finding eagles out of the equation because feed for the eagles is dumped in an open field at Sheffield Mills around 8:30 a.m. each morning. You might have to wait a short while after the meal is laid out before the eagles in nearby trees decide it's time to eat. But, to twist a phrase from a Hollywood movie, "if you feed them, they will come." It's just a different Field of Dreams, have a look . . .

Look up, look way up

A feast for the eagles is a feast for the eyes.

Not a bad photo, but . . .

If you look closely, you'll see that the above image was taken from the one above it, making it even more eye-catching. Just a crop, no Photoshop magic!

The eagles will often oblige by flying directly overhead and not that high. You don't need a monster telephoto lens to capture an image like this.

It's lobster fishing time in Southwestern Nova Scotia

2009-12-02T15:18:59Z

The name 'Total Chaos' on the boat in the foreground tells it all as fishermen in Lower West Pubnico prepare for 'dumping day' and the opening of the annual lobster season in Southwest Nova Scotia.

It's commonly called dumping day because at precisely 6 a.m. on the last Monday in November, thousands of lobster boats big and small fan out from hundreds of fishing villages to race each other for the prime spots to dump to set their traps.

I visited Pubnico's Dennis Point wharf a couple of days before dumping day and no matter in which direction I pointed my camera, I was greeted with a profusion and confusion of colour; boats and buoys; ropes and traps. Even many of the fisherman were dressed in fluorescent orange and yellow foul-weather gear.

I thought I was seeing the result of a explosion of a hundred Christmas trees with colourful ornaments - (floats, ropes and traps) scattered in all directions. . . some in confusing heaps and others lined up in military precision.

Spread over three docks were more than 80 lobster boats each with an allotment of 375 traps and an almost equal number of coloured ropes and floats. Some boats were large enough to carry a full complement of traps, but for smaller ones, their excess traps and gear was piled on the wharf to be loaded for a second trip to the lobster grounds, all on the same day.

As I looked out at the widespread, colourful scene I thought of a Hollywood movie with the credits: "Filmed in Panavision . . . Color by Technicolor"

I did my unofficial math and figured I was looking at as many as 30,000 traps and enough rope to stretch the 700 kilometers from one end of Nova Scotia to the other, with a float or buoy every 1/10 of a kilometer along the way.

And that's just from Lower West Pubnico. Admittedly, this Acadian villages probably has the largest concentration of lobster boats of any other fishing village in the western part of the province, but the amount of gear from all the ports that went into the water in the space of a few hours Monday morning staggers the imagination.

Preparation is months in the making - - - mending traps, coiling ropes, painting bouys and the myriad of other tasks that culminate in dumping day. It's one of the most important days of the year for thousands of fishermen whose livelihood depends on the sea.

In just an hour's time, this lobster boat (above), shown during the final loading stages at 4am, will race out of Yarmouth Harbour past Cape Forchu lighthouse (below) along with dozens of others all heading to the prime locations to set or 'dump' their traps

In nearby Yarmouth, classes at the local schools are suspended for the day and students armed with flashlights flock to the rocky shore of Cape Forchu beneath the Yarmouth Lighthouse to wave their lights as the parade of fishing boats races by in the black, pre dawn darkness. The fishermen respond by lighting the shore with floodlights from their boats.

(For the photographers among you, this picture was taken in almost total darkness, the only light being that of the fishing boats streaming by and one light each at the entrance of the lighthouse and in the light tower itself. The picture was taken with a time exposure of 30 seconds and the light was provided by a 1,000,000 candle power hand held spotlight flashed around the scene in a technique called 'painting with light")

Turning photography into a healthy pursuit

2009-11-06T15:45:07Z

Promoting a healthy workplace is one of the goals of the Nova Scotia government and some of my colleagues at Nova Scotia Tourism, Culture & Heritage have turned a common interest in photography into a healthy pursuit.

A few weeks ago, the staff in the Corporate Strategy & Operations division packed their cameras for a lunchtime outing in downtown Halifax. I happened to stumble upon a display of pictures they had taken that day and was impressed with what I saw, so I asked if they would share their work on this blog.

Remember, as you look at the accompanying images, that these are not professional photographers, but business people who share an interest in fresh air and picture taking. Some of these images were taken with impressive looking cameras mounted on tripods, but most were shot with the point & shoot variety of digital cameras.

As a photographer friend of mine once told a photo class we were conducting: "It's not the camera, but the grey matter two inches behind the viewfinder that counts." Enjoy!

'The Wave' by Adele Poirier

'Dying Flowers' by David Ross

'Busy Bee' by Deb Sharpe

'Intrepid Photographer' by Heather MacMillan

'Come Fly With Me' by Jaylene McEwan

'On Its Last Legs' by Lauren Smith

One last peek at Autumn foliage

2009-11-04T00:18:36Z

I didn't think I'd have anything more to say about Autumn foliage for this year until I went to get the newspaper from my home mailbox yesterday and was greeted with a rain-soaked Japanese maple tree on my front lawn that had turned a stunning scarlet colour almost overnight.

What made it even more spectacular was the neighbouring sugar maple tree with contrasting yellow leaves on one side and the deep green leaves of a rhododendron shrub on the other side.

If it looks and sounds like I live in some kind of botanical garden, don't be fooled. They say a picture tells a thousand words, but what they don't say is that what picture doesn't show can hide a thousand sins.

In this case, I carefully framed my subject in these pictures so as not to show my mossy lawn with its weeds and cinch bugs, plus a mangy birch tree that has been dying a thousand deaths for the last several years. But, year after year, I can always count on my Japanese maple to come through.

Acadian Southshore Autumn

Before I let Autumn die with dignity, I would also like to show some fall foliage images that were sent to me from the Camera Club in the Pubnico area by Bernice d'Entremont of the West Pubnico Acadian Museum. They lead me to believe the southwestern part of the province had a colourful autumn. Unfortunately, this year I didn't get beyond Queens County in that direction. Maybe next year!

Quinns Falls Road, Clyde River, George McRae

Goose creek marsh Robert Island, Robert dEon Crimson Amber, Margie Rogers

Eglis Saint Pierre, Pubnico Ouest Nickerson House, West Pubnico, Judy Ferron

Roseway River, George McRae

Clyde River, George McRae

How a tourism icon is born!

2009-11-02T17:08:02Z

Thanks to fellow blogger Terri McCulloch for planting in me the seeds of an idea for this blog. In her recent blog, Terri talks about fascinating and unusual basalt rock formations along the Bay of Fundy shores,

In a blog of mine last week on autumn leaves, I stated that I was "the most distant thing in the world from being a botanist." This time around I'll clarify outright that I'm not a geologist either, but I do hold a fascination for rocks and rock formations, which leads me to the subject of how a tourism icon is born or gains popularity.

One of the greatest outdoor photographers of all time, Ansel Adams, made a career photographing rocks formations in the American southwest and Yosemite National Park in California was one of his favourites. The park's waterfalls and sheer rock faces make it one of the most photographed National Parks in the United States, thanks in large part to Ansel Adams' photography. I've been to Yosemite and it is indeed a stunning and mystical place.

In Nova Scotia, photography has helped create icons that attract tourists from around the world . . . places like the Cabot Trail or the lighthouse at Peggy's Cove to name two. There are many others and, for the most part, it was photography, or rather photographs of these places, that helped make them sought after places to visit.

When I saw Terri McCulloch's blog photo of the Balancing Rock on Digby Neck near the fishing village of Tiverton, it reminded me of the small part I played in making this unusual rock formation known to the traveling public.

In 1992, I was doing photography along Digby Neck and stopped at the small local museum and information centre at Tiverton. I was intrigued with a small, faded snapshot on the wall featuring a free-standing rock formation. I asked the young lady who was looking after the centre where the rock was located, as I'd like to photograph it.

She told me she wasn't sure where it was or how to get to it, but said that local fishermen passed by it going and coming to and from Tiverton. She offered to call a man living nearby whom she thought would know how to find it. After a brief phone conversation, she said the man would be right over.

A few minutes later, a retired gentleman showed up and I recognized him as Woodrow Outhouse whom I had photographed with his grandson two years earlier for the 1991 cover of the Evangeline Trail Travel Guide.

He explained to me that the rock formation I was looking for was not that easy to find, then went on to give me directions that involved a short drive, a long hike, some bushwhacking and hanging onto ropes while descending a steep trail to the shore. Oh! Did I mention that I was laden down with about 30 pounds of camera gear?

I followed his directions to the letter, including hanging onto ropes that someone had kindly left tied to trees, and reached a shoreline strewn with giant columns of basalt. In case you didn't know, basalt rock rises vertically from earth and not in horizontal layers like most rock. I'll let the geologists in the crowd explain why, or you can Google 'basalt'.

In any case, I reached the appointed destination and there before me was the rock in question. I hate terms like 'breathtaking', but I have to admit I was in awe at how this giant column of rock 30 or so feet high and several feet thick stood on a rock outcropping with no visible means of support.

I was even more awestruck when I approached for a closer view and could look under the rock through a narrow horizontal crack and see the ocean beyond. The rock column didn't appear to have much attachment to base rock on which it stood. Not only that, part of the base protruded out from the supporting rock. It looked like a pencil standing upright, half on and half off the edge of a table top. But this was not pencil, rather many tons of solid rock.

I took my pictures, all the time kicking myself for the fact that there was no one with me to place beside the rock to give viewers of my photos some idea of its size. I corrected my mistake a week later by luring my unsuspecting wife to Tiverton to be my model.

One of the pictures I took of her that day graces the cover of the 1993 Doers & Dreamers Guide to Nova Scotia. Another of the pictures has been used to death on a postcard that I still see in gift shops around the province.

Here we are 17 years later and the rock still stands proudly and supported only by the hand of Mother Nature. (No that's not Mother Nature holding the rock in the above photo . . . it' s my wife.)

However, a lot of other things have changed. I took the original pictures in 1992; the Guide cover appeared the following year and it started a flood of inquiries from people wanting to see and photograph what they were describing as the "balancing rock".

The Tiverton Chamber of Commerce, concerned that access to the rock was not only potentially dangerous, but involved traveling over private property, raised money to build a shorter route over land they acquired.

They put in parking lot, signage, washrooms, wooden boardwalks over swampy areas and, most importantly, stairs down to the shoreline and a viewing platform from which to see the Balancing Rock.

Thus, a tourism icon was born. It's not Yosemite Park, but it attracts several thousand visitors each year and, for a small community like Tiverton, it was a major accomplishment of which they are extremely proud.

When I visit the Balancing Rock now, I miss the adventure that used to be. Where are the ropes?

There are still ropes, but they're now attached to the stairs ascending the steep cliff and around the viewing platform.

When you thought autumn foliage was finished, it's not!

2009-10-28T15:59:44Z

I've done a fair amount of autumn leaf photography in Nova Scotia during October and on my last trip to Cape Breton a week or so ago, I began to see bare trees and think that this is it for another year.

Yesterday, with camera in hand, I wandered out in downtown Halifax and found that there were still places worth photographing. I'm the most distant thing in the world from being a botanist, but I've noticed over the years that leaves in Halifax alway seem to come to their peak later than in other parts of the province.

Perhaps it's the type of trees. In downtown Halifax there don't appear to be a lot of maples so there is not the same mix of colours that you'd find on a mountainside in Cape Breton or along the shores of the Mersey River in Kejimkujik National Park, for instance.

I believe the trees I'm seeing in the city are largely beech trees, but I stand to be corrected. In any case, whatever they are, there is lots of variations on orange and yellow. Before I get deeper into a field on which I'm not an expert and raise the ire of the botanists among you, have a look at some of the photos I took in the last day or so. There are probably a few days left to duplicate these shots, but the leaves are disappearing fast.

Halifax City Hall in Grand Parade

Seaview Park beside Halifax Harbour in the city's northend

Royal Artillery Park on Sackville Street

The entrance to the Halifax Public Gardens at North Park and Sackville Streets.

- - - -

The following images were all taken in and around the Public Gardens

Le Suête is Acadian for hang onto your hat, she's going to blow

2009-10-26T16:24:52Z

Often when I travel the Cabot Trail between Margaree Harbour and Pleasant Bay, the wind is churning up the Gulf of St. Lawrence surf and pounding it on the rocks along the western shore of Cape Breton Island.

On such occasions, I'm reminded of the 50's era tune 'They Call The Wind Mariah', a fictional wind popularized in Lerner and Lowe musical 'Paint Your Wagon' and a signature tune of the 50s folk group The Kingston Trio.

Hundreds of names have been given to the winds peculiar to certain areas of the world, like the 'Landlash' of Scotland, the 'Dust Devil' of the southwestern United States or the equatorial "Doldrums".

The Acadians of western Cape Breton have a wind of their own and they call it 'Le Suête' which translates in English to southeast wind. When the Acadians say Le Suête is approaching it's time to put a chin strap on your toque because things are going to get très breezy.

I got a reminder of this a few weeks ago when I started out doing autumn leaf photography and ended up shooting giant waves and crashing surf along with tourists who were visiting Cape Breton on the Thanksgiving weekend for the same reason as myself. They too ended up on the Cabot Trail lookoffs to watch and photograph the boiling sea.

Later, I was told that I wasn't, in fact, in the middle of Le Suête, but rather a northwest gale. I guess I should have known, as the wind that day was a mere breeze compared with my first experience with the real thing about 10 years ago.

I had been photographing northern Cape Breton and stayed overnight in Pleasant Bay. When I hit the road in the morning, it was raining heavily and, since the forecast called for more heavy rain over the next few days, I decided to abort my Cape Breton photo shoot and return to Halifax.

I headed back through the rain along the Cabot Trail and stopped at the local Tim's in Cheticamp for coffee. I don't remember the wind being a factor that morning until I noticed, as I sat drinking coffee, that the double doors on either side of the coffee shop were suddenly blowing wide open and closing abruptly. Outside, the steel post that held the Tim Horton's sign was waving from side to side as if it were a willow wand.

I continued my drive south, but had gone only as far as Grand Etang when all of a sudden the sun broke through the heavy cloud and not one, but two rainbows appeared in front of me, rising up out of the wave-filled harbour.

I found a spot to park, grabbed my camera from the passenger seat where I alway carry it and was set to jump out of my van to get a few shots before the rainbows disappeared. Problem! I had parked broadside to the fierce wind and it was blowing so hard against the driver's side that I couldn't open the door.

I was reluctant to exit from the opposite side because I was afraid I'd be caught by the wind and blown away, so I lowered the driver's window and crawled through the opening and grabbed hold of a lamp pole a few feet away. I shot my pictures one-handed, with one arm and one leg wrapped around the pole for support.

As I was shooting, I noticed other rainbows forming farther to the north, in the direction from which I had come. To make a long story short, I eventually ended up returning to Pleasant Bay, then farther north to the village of Red River shooting surf and rainbows along the way and using trees, poles and guardrails to hang onto for support.

Little did I know at the time that I was experiencing my first Le Suête, but not my last, although this was admittedly the most memorable. If you're in Cape Breton and decide to venture out in Le Suête, you'd be advised to fill your pockets with rocks and lash down your headgear.

I've dug back into my files to show you a few photos from that day as well as a few from this fall.

This was the double rainbow at Grand Etang that started me chasing rainbows on the Cabot

Trail

A bit of a rainbow is visible near the stern of the fishing boat, but the most unusual thing about this photo is that Le Suête is pushing the waves toward the sea. I was wrapped around a post to take this shot.

Fishing boats at Pleasant Bay under a rainbow arch

A full rainbow arches over farms in the small northern Cape Breton village of Red River.

This rainbow near Red River appears to be rising from the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

I felt like I was in a snowball fight in this recent Thanksgiving weekend photo as the wind pelted me with bits of foam that covered the beach near Margaree Harbour

This was a recent windy-day scene at Whale Cove on the Ceilidh Trail near Margaree Harbour.

This lookoff at Terre Noire on the Cabot Trail attracted lots of Thanksgiving weekend tourists with their cameras.

Fall foliage in Nova Scotia was great for the most part

2009-10-22T01:01:50Z

Well, another season for fall foliage is winding down as wet and windy weather takes its toll on the trees that have not yet lost their leaves. One area that is still at its peak is the Halifax/Dartmouth area where there are plenty of reds, oranges and yellows in parks and along city streets.

I was in Cape Breton over the last two weekends and travelled both the Eastern Shore and the Sunrise Trail going to and from.

As usual, the leaves were brilliant in some places, past their prime in others and, in some, still not their best.

Along the coastal Marine Drive on the Eastern Shore, there was little to photograph until I turned up #7 highway at Sherbrooke and followed the St. Mary's River toward Antigonish.

The leaves through Mount Thom between Truro and New Glasgow have pretty well had it, but there was still lots to photograph between New Glasgow and Antigonish, also from there to the Canso Causeway.

Since, as the expression goes, a picture is worth a thousand words, take a look at some of the more notably fall scenery I've photographed lately. This is just a small sampling. If you would like to view more, click here.

View of Seal Island bridge from a lookoff on Kelly's Mountain in Cape Breton

A river view at Tarbotvale on the Cabot Trail not far from St. Ann's Bay

The Cabot Trail heading down Cape Smokey toward Ingonish.

A classic view of the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton Highlands National Park

A brilliant hillside along the Cabot Trail through the Margaree Valley

Lake O'Law on the Cabot Trail between the Margaree Valley and Middle River

The West River in Sheet Harbour along the Eastern Shore's Marine Drive

The St. Mary's River near the village of Sherbrooke on the Marine Drive

Lochiel Lake on the Marine Drive between Sherbrooke and Antigonish

The Bras d'Or Lake near West Orangedale in Cape Breton

Barrachois on the Bras d'Or Lake Scenic Drive not far from North Sydney

Cape North Has Winter During the Summer

2009-10-07T21:53:29Z

In my previous life as photojournalist, I lived on both coasts of Canada and in between, travelling and working throughout North America. Perhaps being away from my native Nova Scotia for 10 years awakened me to the fact that we live in an incredible part of the country.

There are some amazing places outside our borders to see and photograph, but as I look around Nova Scotia I'm constantly in awe of the incredible diversity that surrounds us.

Like us, many places in the world boast of their seacoasts, but in Nova Scotia we have many and varied coastlines. Our Atlantic shores are different than the Bay of Fundy; the Northumberland shore is different from the Cape Breton coast.

Over the years I've taken pictures of Nova Scotia beaches that reminded people of Florida, minus the palm trees. I've photographed Fundy rock formations that reminded people of the American southwest, and some of my Cape Breton pictures bear a remarkable resemblance to the Oregon coast which I've also photographed.

That diversity extends to the tiny northern Cape Breton community of Cape North where you can divert a few hundred feet off the Cabot Trail to witness a moonscape here on earth. Of course, that's no news to Cape Bretoners who will readily tell you that their island is the next thing to heaven.

Cape North was once a thriving gypsum mining community and evidence of that past can be found near the North Highlands Nordic Centre, one of the top cross country skiing destinations in eastern Canada.

In the Winter the land is carpeted with snow and a haven for cross country skiers, but in the Spring, the snow gives way to another covering of white . . . gypsum. If it weren't for the background trees and mountains, the viewer of photographs could be easily be fooled into thinking it's still Winter. Just take a look . . .

Gypsum formations cover the ground at Cape North like a blanket of snow

This is a winter view in the same area. Notice the gypsum deposits peaking through the snow above the skiers

In many places the gypsum has heaved up to make these small igloo-like mounds.

A closeup view of a lone autumn leaf on gypsum shards that litter the ground. Be careful handling them as they have razor-sharp edges.

It's time . . . The Autumn foliage is starting to reach its peak

2009-10-05T15:22:19Z

This past weekend, I travelled through western and northern Cape Breton looking for Autumn leaf hotspots and I was in for a pleasant surprise. Although there were still a few areas that were coming along slowly, there were many others where the leaves well along.

This was in stark contrast to last week when I drove through parts of Lunenburg and Queens County and found that, for the most part, the leaves were still at least a week away from being at their best.

I wasn't alone in Cape Breton on the weekend. The Cabot Trail, in particular, was a beehive of activity and most of the lookoffs were filled with cars whose occupants stood at the guardrails and clicked away with their digital cameras.

Most of the comments I heard were positive, but I know from experience that what people were seeing was a far cry from what they will see a few days hence. Take North Mountain, the highest point in Nova Scotia on the Cabot Trail near Pleasant Bay. The leaves were good, but in a few days they will be awesome. The photo below is of the single red tree surrounded by still-green maples on North Mountain. Given a few days, the rest of these trees will be sporting their fall colours too.

Having said that, now is the time to start enjoying and photographing over the next few weeks, not only in Cape Breton, but throughout the province. Here are a few more images from the weekend and I'll feature photos from some other areas in Nova Scotia in the next few days, weather permitting that is.

The view of northern Cape Breton mountains from Cabot Landing Provincial Park between Cape North and Bay St. Lawrence.

This young lady photographs Egypt Falls on the Piper's Glen Road near Lake Anslie.

Both anglers and moose were enjoying the Margaree River as it flows through the heart of the Margaree Valley.

This is another view of the Margaree River from a roadside lookoff.

The Egypt Road near Lake Anslie was alive with colour. This is not far from the trail to Egypt Falls (above).

Finally, I'll leave (no pun intended) you with one thought. Keeps an eye out where your walking. You might be tramping on a great picture. Good leaf hunting!

Headline News: Scarecrows Invade Town of Mahone Bay

2009-10-02T13:31:50Z

If you've been reading the newspapers over the last few days, you've undoubtedly been alarmed to hear that scarecrows are invading the southshore town of Mahone Bay. Actually there is nothing to be alarmed about unless, of course, you miss the three-day affair that ends on Sunday.

Mahone Bay seems to grasp hold of any excuse to have a festival and, as a photographer, this is one of my favourites. The whole town seems to get into the act and you'll find scarecrows of all shapes and sizes peering at you as you stroll the streets of town.

It's lots of fun for the whole family and don't forget to take your camera and lots of film. Oh! wait, we don't shoot film anymore do we, so leave plenty of space on your digital memory cards instead. Have a look at some images I shot last year.

Oh! I almost forgot. Wait until darkness arrives and visit the Magical Pumpkin Path between 7 & 9 pm to see more than 150 carved and lighted pumpkins, the handiwork of Jo-Ann of Jo-Ann's Market. Take a look.

The Autumn Scene Is Beginning To Heat Up

2009-10-01T15:20:48Z

I had a chance yesterday to poke around Lunenburg and Queens County as far as Kejimkujik National Park looking for those autumn hot spots so I could turn my camera loose, but I came to the conclusion that we still have a week or two to go before the trees turn truly brilliant.

I find autumn leaf photography is usually a game of cat and mouse in Nova Scotia because the leaves do not change consistently throughout the province. While one areas may be at its peak, another has already passed and a third is yet to come. Therefore it is worthwhile poking around and don't be discouraged because the area you're in is not quite there. You may find a hot spot only a few miles away.

That's where there the autumn leaf watch page on the novascotia.com website comes it handy. Fellow photographers are posting their pictures on a daily basis and if you stay tuned to the postings you can find the best spots without wasting a lot of gas. Of course, you're welcome to post your pictures too. It could help the rest of us out.

Having said that, let me show you what I found yesterday and stay tuned because I will be in Cape Breton this weekend so I should have more to show early next week.

If this scene is typical of what you encounter as you travel around Nova Scotia, don't be discouraged . . . the colour is coming. This photo was taken at Northfield in Queens County not from Keji Park.

This photo was taken on Mill Lake, only a few kilometres away from where the top photo was taken.

Colour comes early when trees grow in damp areas. This was, again, taken not far from the top photo, but in a swampy area where most of the trees have changed. Unfortunately, trees growing in these conditions are usually stunted and not that photogenic.

This view of the Old Annapolis Road in Brookfield, Queens County, is a little more like it, but don't be deceived. I travelled several kilometres down this road and this spot was the only one with significant colour.

Don't be disappointed if you if you can't find hillsides ablaze with colour. Narrow your field of view and you'll find some interesting closeup possibilities as the above two photos illustrate.

The one thing I did learn from yesterday's excursion is that there are going to be some great possibilities in the next week or so along route 208 between New Germany and Caledonia. Some of the farms along these roads have gigantic maple trees growing on their properties and when these change, the views will be stunning. Good luck!

Another Summer Has Come and Gone

2009-09-28T20:33:31Z

It's always sad to see summer fade into history, but fortunately we can look forward to the fall season when mother nature paints virtually every hillside in Nova Scotia in a myriad of brilliant colours.

Yes! I know the skeptics among you are thinking that when fall comes, winter is not far behind. I'm not ashamed to say I like winter because it offers a whole new field of photographic possibilities. But more about that later.

Summer this year started out wet and the dampness persisted throughout much of July and into early August, but that didn't stop me from taking pictures. In previous blogs I've shown you groups of photos with little stories attached. Now I'd like to share some of the random shots that I've added to my collection this summer. Enjoy!

The Atlantic Jazz Festival is Nova Scotia mainland's answer to Cape Breton's Celtic Colours with a nine-day feast of fine indoor and outdoor jazz in mid July.

The Parade of Sail was one of the featured events of the summer as tall ships from around the world paraded in Halifax and visited many ports in the province.

Who doesn't like a good fireworks display? There are plenty of them to take in around the province during the summer. This one shows the Halifax/Dartmouth Natal Day fireworks.

If you like artwork with lots of colour, the annual Folk Art Festival in Lunenburg should definitely be put on your wish list.

The joint was definitely jumping when buskers took over the Halifax waterfront during the annual Buskers Festival.

The ladies team at the Wedgeport International Tuna Tournament was a force with which to be reckoned. The two bluefin tuna they brought ashore gave them second place in the total weight category for the second year in a row.

It seems like everybody in Wedgeport turned out to see and photograph teams during the weigh-in at the end of the Tuna Tournament.

After a good rain, the waters of the East River in Sheet Harbour turn angry as they boil out from under the highway bridge and make their wayover a series of rapids into the harbour .

That's it for now. I'll have more summer photos to share in future blogs.

Celtic Music is Always on the Menu

2009-09-28T19:48:38Z

The Celtic Colours International Festival, featuring musical performances throughout Cape Breton Island, is about to kick off for another year, but you never have to wait to hear Celtic music on the Island. There is always some place where a fiddler, piano player and/or guitarist can be found performing for an enthusiastic audience. One of those places is the Celtic Music Interpretive Centre in Judique.

What more logical place for the Centre to be than Judique, home of Mr. Fiddle himself, Buddy MacMaster. Fiddling sensations Natalie MacMaster, Buddy's niece, and Ashley MacIsaac grew up and honed their skills in tiny communities not far away. The famed Rankin Family is from just up the road In Mabou and the area has spawned a host of other Celtic musicians who have taken their brand of of music to the four corners of the world.

Built just a couple of years ago, the Celtic Music Interpretive Centre features a dining room where lunch comes complete with foot-stomping music performed by resident musicians led by piano wizard Alan Dewar. Adjacent to the dining area is a museum that chronicles the history of Cape Breton Celtic music and its many musicians.

It's definitely a place to stop. Order lunch with a side-order of rousing jigs and reels.

Have a look!

There's generally a lunchtime kitchen party going on at the Celtic Music Interpretive Centre.

The museum features vintage musical instruments and memorabilia.

The lives of prominent Cape Breton fiddlers are chronicled on colourful display panels.

Take a fiddle from the wall and get some expert instruction from a resident fiddler.

Or let the expert show you the finer points of Cape Breton step dancing.

Step Back in Time at Sherbrooke Village

2009-09-27T20:02:13Z

If you've ever thought you'd like to step back 100, 200 years or more armed with your digital camera, it's easy to do in Nova Scotia. Simply steer a course to one of the many Nova Scotia museums or National Historic Sites.

Most people think of museums and historic sites as a place to delve into our history. Outwardly that's what they are intended to do, but for the picture takers among us, they are a virtual gold mine of photographic possibilities. Many of them are like stepping onto a movie set complete with costumed animators and give you a chance to relive and photograph our past in an historically accurate setting.

Undoubtedly, the king of these is the Fortress Louisbourg National Historic Site on the east coast of Cape Breton Island. Louisbourg is one of the largest historical reconstructions in North America and accurately represents life in the fortress town during the mid 1700s.

I've photographed Louisbourg many times and I'll cover it in a future blog, but let me acquaint you with one of my favourites, Sherbrooke Village Living Museum on the Eastern Shore, about a two hours drive from Halifax or an hour from Antigonish.

Dozens of wooden buildings make up Sherbrooke Village. They are all original buildings, not reconstructions, and they include a courthouse, print shop, tailor shop, woodworking shop, general store, church, schoolhouse, doctor's office, apothecary, blacksmith, weaver's home, telephone office and hotel where you can get a hot, light meal of 1800s vintage.

But the best part is that each of the buildings is staffed by a local Sherbrooke resident wearing period costume and they don't mind being photographed as they go about their daily chores. Here's some sample photos to whet your appetite.

Sherbrooke Village main street

The hotel dining room

The blacksmith shop

Weavers at work

No drinking allowed here

A step back in time