As John Denver knew, there is something truly magic about the Rocky Mountains. I can’t help humming or singing whenever I think of them – and Denver’s song “Rocky Mountain Suite (Cold Nights in Canada)“ fits the bill perfectly.
Banff National Park was an integral part of my childhood and I never pass up the opportunity to spend time there. This year, however, we decided to venture further north: to Jasper National Park. It was a fortuitous choice, really, as major flooding from torrential rainfall plus snow-melt in the area just days before our arrival forced the evacuation of numerous southern Albertan cities. Mudslides and flooding cut Banff off from the east, so we would not have been able to enter.
Although it rained much our drive west from Edmonton along the Yellowhead Highway, we were relieved to meet perfectly dry roads and clear skies as the mountains came into view and we neared the boundaries of Jasper.
Jasper Mountains Looking west along the Yellowhead Highway, east of Jasper National Park, Alberta, magnificent mountains come into view.
Bull Elk We had no sooner entered the park than we met our first elk or wapiti (Cervus canadensis). He’s so close we can see the velvet on this season’s antlers.
Young Elk Just down the road, a younger male grazes.
“White Rump” Herd animals, the Wapiti (“White rump” in Shawnee and Cree) graze in small groups in the fading light.
Bunchberry (Cornus canadensis)
Path to Sunwapta Falls Morning sun peaks through western red cedar and lodgepole pine.
White Waters The fast-moving Sunwapta River roars along side the path…
Sunwapta Rapids … crashing over rocks as it rushes downstream…
Sunwapta Falls … and over the lower falls.
Fairy Slippers (Calypso bulbosa) Tiny orchids grow on the forest floor.
Tumbled Trees and Tumbling Waters
Bridge over Upper Sunwapta Falls
Upper Sunwapta Falls White waters roar down in splashing torrents.
Red Paintbrush (Castilleja Miniata) Everywhere we walked or drove, the meadows and verges were alive with colour.
American Black Bear (Ursus americanus) Our Canadian friends get pretty blasé about the black bears which can be nuisance around garbages…
American Black Bear (Ursus americanus) … but I still get excited seeing them in the wild.
Mountain Roads The roads were pretty quiet ~ although the park seemed to have plenty of European visitors.
Elk / Wapiti (Cervus elaphus) We were told that elk numbers were diminishing in the park, but we saw many powerful bulls.
Portrait of a Bull Wapiti This fellow may not be that old: apparently Alberta’s elk mature quickly and three-year-old bulls can sport large racks.
Bighorn Sheep (Ovis canadensis) I am used to having to scour the mountain ridges to see these animals – never before have I met them on the road!
Portrait: Male Bighorn Unconcerned by our presence, the sheep walked straight past our car windows. Medicine Lake, Jasper.
Bighorn Family As we drove back along Medicine Lake in the late afternoon, a family group were scrambling along the slope.
Bighorn Sheep & Car For some reason, the whole group decided to lick the backend of another car stopped on the road. Our vehicle was of no interest!
Baby Bighorn Sheep A little one gives up, and crosses back over the roadway.
Encounter with a Bull A photographer with a large lens shoots photos of a male elk.
Bull Elk The bull, weighing in at between 320 and 330 kg (710 to 730 lb), stares back.
Cold nights in Canada and icy blue winds
The man and the mountains are brothers again
Clear waters are laughing, they sing to the sky
The Rockies are living, they never will die
Quiet Time on U-Bein Bridge, Amarapura, Myanmar (For you purists out there, the purple cast is the result of a little artistic licence and Lightroom split-toning, rather than pure nature.)
Does originality matter any more?
That was the question posed today by a photographer who’s Facebook feed I look in on from time to time. He was lamenting the fact that a picture awarded a first place for “Sports Action” by World Press Photo was an image he considered unoriginal, by virtue of the fact that other photographers had previously taken similar pictures from similar points of view.
Personally, I think it depends, at least partially, on one’s purpose. An artist should aim to be original, so for photographic contests, one can rightfully expect that originality would be part of the criteria.
My work is not particularly original. Although I keep trying to ground my photographic technique and to stretch my artistic eye, I will never be a pace-setter.
Nor am I a trail-blazer. Most of the places I visit are also on other people’s itineraries; they have been seen and documented before. For example, the U-Bein Teak Bridge over Taungthaman Lake, south of Mandalay, has been photographed so often at sunset that it is one of Myanmar’s most iconic images.
That didn’t stop me from wanting to see it and photograph it myself.
Wooden Boats Waiting The best way to photograph those iconic silhouettes is from a hired boat on Taungthaman Lake.
Cameras Ready! With Taungthaman Lake filling up with tourists and photographers, the likelihood of getting a shot like no other reduces considerably.
I visited the bridge on two successive evenings last September as part of a photographic tour facilitated by photographer Karl Grobl and guide Mr MM. And, my nine travel-companions and myself were not alone in carrying camera equipment. A truly original image might be hard to come by!
Fading Light The 1.2km bridge, built from teak timbers recovered from the Amarapura palace when King Mindon relocated to Mandalay in 1852, is in daily use as means of crossing the big lake.
Heading Home
Comings and Goings
Last Light
Restaurant on the Shore There are a number of places on the lake’s shore where you can watch the light fade over the famous bridge.
Teak Posts On my second visit, I opted to walk out over the lake.
Monks on the Bridge
Still Waters Taungthaman Lake is quiet on the far side of the bridge.
Spiral Temple On the shore, a Buddhist temple is reflected in the waters of the lake.
Taungthaman Lake A tourist boat works its way past fishermen wading in the shallow waters.
Fisherman Under the bridge, a fisherman prepares to come in for the day. At regular intervals, there are stairs up and down from the water.
Life on the Bridge I took a boat from the middle of the lake for the remains of the evening.
Monks on the Bridge
Monks on the Bridge Like other tourists on the bridge, visiting monks take pictures of themselves.
Sunset Silhouettes As the sun goes down, the crowd on the bridge grows in number.
Young Couple
The Blue Hour
Last Light
Back to Shore
“Original” or not, the experience is as important to me as the outcome. I love the travel, and the chance to see places for myself, especially those iconic and oft-visited places that have been photographed many, many times before.
I absolutely your pictures Ursula.
They are so professional and the title at the bottom of each photo has a nice touch.
You obviously love what you do.
No wonder you two travel so much.
Thank you…ReplyCancel
Catching Dreams Ribbons and feathers for loved ones wave on the wind on the graveyard fence, Wounded Knee, SD
We drove across North Dakota on our road trip this summer: about 350 miles – almost all of them dead straight – through black dirt and green hills, and under a dark, looming sky.
It made me think about our visit to neighbouring South Dakota last year.
Granted, the landscape further south was different: hotter, drier, with more buttes and badlands. But I felt the same sense of oppressive gloom. In North Dakota, it was the weather – and the glum resignation of the young staff at the Visitor Centre when we said we weren’t stopping, but were driving through. “Su-ure. Like most people,” she responded in her Scandinavian-derived sing-song, shrugging dolefully.
In South Dakota, it was the history.
My husband and I were driving east from Cody WY, headed for Kadoka SD, where we planned to stay two nights so we could visit the South Dakota Badlands. As we sailed across the night, we realised we were bypassing Mt Rushmore. So, we decided to back-track. We looked at the map, and, instead of following a straight trip back along the same Highway 90, we traced a route south and around, through the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation and past historic Wounded Knee.
Mesa on Highway 73 South The land south of Kadoka is hot, dry and dramatic.
Sunflowers Sunflowers, wheat, and hay appear to be the only crops.
Stop! Road works are everywhere, and Native Lakota from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation are on the job.
A Kadoka School School’s out! The “Drug and Weapon Free Zone” sign shouldn’t really be necessary, should it?
Slow! A Lakota woman working the road crews smiles as she makes us wait –
Follow Me! … and we are finally off, through the dust and heat –
Golden Bales – past ploughed fields and to the next road works.
Storage Silos on the Horizon
Lakota Arts and Crafts, Wounded Knee This inauspicious site is our first indication of what is supposed to be an official U.S. National Historic Landmark.
I guess every country and culture has moments that it is not proud of; Wounded Knee has seen two major cultural clashes, both of which arose out of stubbornness and resulted in loss of life.
The original battle, the Wounded Knee Massacre, took place on December 29, 1890. Causes are never simple, but the combination of: bison herds being hunted to near extinction; Sioux people being forced off their lands after dubious unfulfilled treaty agreements; the recent death of Sitting Bull, eight of his supporters and six policemen; a new Native AmericanGhost Dance religion that had believers thinking they were immune to bullets; over-zealous and heavy-handed Cavalry; and firearms discharged (accidentally and intentionally) at close range, resulted in a pursuit and massacre of up to 300 Lakota (mostly women and children) and the death of more than 25 soldiers, many by friendly fire.
Three days of blizzard followed, and the civilians hired to bury the dead Lakota found the bodies frozen. Even so, four infants were reportedly found alive. One of these was the child who came to be called Zintkala Nuni, or Lost Bird. She was handed around for some time before being adopted by Gen. Leonard Colby, whose suffragist wife, Clara Bewick Colby, was left to raise her – especially after he abandoned Clara for Zintkala’s nursemaid/governess and failed to provide adequate support for either dependent.
Lost Bird endured a short and difficult life, accepted by neither culture, and suffering from prejudice, poverty, abuse and violence before ultimately succumbing to influenza and dying on Valentine’s Day at age twenty-nine. In 1991, her body was moved from her pauper’s grave in California to the sad little graveyard at Wounded Knee. One of the young men I spoke with was an infant at the time, but his eyes grew wistful as he remembered his grandfather presiding over the ritual ceremonies conducted on that day.
Headstones Graveyard, Wounded Knee
Final Resting Place Zintkala Nuni(Little Lost Bird) is finally home at Wounded Knee.
Feathers on the Fence Catching dreams and memories for loved ones…
The second Wounded Knee Incident was in 1973, when the town was occupied by members of the Oglala Civil Rights Organization (OSCRO) and the American Indian Movement (AIM) and became the rallying point for an often violent protest against the corruption of a local tribal president, and the failure of the US government to fulfill treaty promises.
Lakota Center, Wounded Knee In a round building in the middle of nowhere…
Manning the Centre … a Lakota man tried to explain the history of the centre and of his people.
The whole atmosphere was ineffably sad. Both the place and the people seemed wounded – with the scarring improperly healed. The young men I spoke to talked about the conflict of cultures and the lack of opportunities. One worked as an itinerant farm hand – when there was work to be had. He used to have six cows himself, but sold them during hard times. He told us how, the other morning, half asleep, he found a neighbouring (white) rancher’s cows on his doorstep. “For a moment, I thought I’d got lucky,” he mused dreamily. Then he woke up with a deep sigh.
It is hard to know how to respond to that kind of hopelessness.
Feeling deeply affected, we continued west and stopped at the small city of Hot Springs for lunch.
There, we learned about a whole different historical epoch. As it turns out, Hot Springs is home to a karst sinkhole formed approximately 26,000 years ago. During the last ice age, mammoths and other animals were attracted to the warm spring waters and the vegetation growing around the pond. Once in the steeply-sided pond, the animals could not escape, dying of starvation, exhaustion, or drowning.
The covered-over sink hole was discovered in 1974 when the owner of the property found what turned out to be mammoth bones on his land. The property was sold back to a trust, and The Mammoth Site was born. A climate-controlled building was constructed over what is now a working paleontological dig and a fascinating view into the plants and animals of the Pleistocene era. So far, the fossil evidence of 58 columbian mammoths and 3 woolly mammoths (all male; mostly young) have been found, along with remains of plants, giant short-faced bear, camel, llama, prairie dog, wolf, fish, and numerous invertebrates.
Brandon Our “interpreter” was informative and amusing, as he walked us through the history of the centre and the geology of the site.
Painstaking Work Uncovering the fossils takes patience and time – students at all levels and visiting professionals take turns working the dig.
Walkway The elevated walkway allows visitors a good view of the site and the work going on, but still keeps them out of the way.
It was a fascinating visit, and elevated our mood somewhat after the morning’s experience. Checking the maps again and realising we could drive through Wind Cave National Park and Custer State Park to get to Mt Rushmore, cheered us up further.
A Big Male After their near extinction in the late 1800s, bison were saved by the American Bison Society and reintroduced to the park in 1913-1914.
Bison Herd Bison numbers have grown; too late, of course, for the Lakota and other Sioux tribes.
White-Tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus) A mother deer with her young fawn, watches the road skittishly.
Baby Burro The now-wild burros of Custer State Park beg for food from drivers.
A Pair of Pronghorn Pronghorn (Antilocapra americana) are now quite numerous in western states.
The Iron Mountain Road This feat of engineering winds through the Black Hills and passes through three tunnels that frame a very faint Mount Rushmore in the distance.
Over the Woods Pine and spruce forests, Custer State Park
Tunnel Vision Mount Rushmore in the distance.
Mt Rushmore
By the time we reached Mt Rushmore, the shadows had grown long, and I’d lost enthusiasm for visiting oversized carvings of powerful white men, etched into a mountain with little regard for the original residents of the Black Hills below. According to “Honor the Treaties”, a short film I came across recently, 90% of Lakota today live below the US poverty line the life expectancy of males is only 47.
Afternoon Light over the Dakota Grasslands
Sunset over the Black Hills
Sobering thought – after a long day’s drive through the sacred hills.
very interesting report Ursula. Greetings, DietmutReplyCancel
Katy -July 9, 2014 - 1:05 pm
My mother taught weaving on the Pine Ridge reservation during the ’70s. She was arrested and thrown in jail while trying to leave the reservation after the news reported the stand off was over. Crazy sad history there. Another terrible epoch in American history was the 1864 Sand Creek Massacre in Eastern Colorado, where one of my ancestors was involved in the killing of many Cheyenne women and children.ReplyCancel
Your mother was clearly an amazing woman in her day, Katy! I guess that is where you get your grit. 😀
The whole “clash of cultures/beliefs” thing is ineffably sad, isn’t it? And, we as a people don’t seem to be getting any more tolerant of difference.ReplyCancel
Hsinbyume Pagoda Seven concentric terraces, representing the seven mountain ranges going up to the mythological Mount Meru, form the base of Hsinbyume Pagoda, Mingun.
There are ups and downs when traveling with a photo group.
One of the most important advantages is time: a group of people aiming to make pictures will often stay in one place long enough to experiment with light and angles and to focus on details, long enough to make the average non-photographer fidget with boredom and restlessness.
Being with a group of photo enthusiasts means that you have access to lots of advice and input. On the flip side, it can also mean being overwhelmed by other people’s styles and and ideas, and having difficulty holding on to your own.
It means being put in the right place a the right time. It also means competing for space and having to work around others – and taking lots of dud pictures that include other people’s lenses, feet, heads, flashes, and other body- and camera-bits.
Sometimes, like at Hsinbyume Pagoda in Myanmar last September, with photographer Karl Grobl and guide Mr MM, it means having “models” organised. This is always a lot of fun, and is much easier than negotiating permission with subjects yourself. However, it also means waiting your turn while subjects wilt in the heat, losing the moment, or having the eyes of your subject drawn away by someone else, just as you are about to take the picture you have been warming them up to.
But, it provides a welcome opportunity for photographic exercise. For me, Hsinbyume Pagoda was a challenge in lighting: dark skinned novices in dark robes contrasting severely with a white pagoda against a whiter-than-white sky; dark skinned novices in dark robes disappearing in the dimness of the pagoda’s interiors.
It also gave me a chance to make the kind of “orchestrated” photos that I don’t normally take.
Novices on the Waves Four young novices arrange themselves on the terraces at the base of Hsinbyume Pagoda.
Ready! The young novices wait for everyone to take their pictures.
Little Novice Against the white waves of the pagoda, glaring in the heat, a young novice tidies his robes.
Little Novice
Don’t tell the Abbot!
Novice on the Run Our novices engage in some rather un-monkly behaviour for our benefit.
Novice on the Waves
Novice in Flight
The whole group climbs the stairs up to the pagoda…
… to take pictures of a young novice on the path outside it.
In the Heat of the Day
Novice in a Doorway Inside the pagoda, it is dark and textured –
Novice in a Doorway – making a foil for the young novices.
Novice on a Walkway Outside, on the walkway, the heat continues to radiate in all directions.
Prayers Meanwhile, inside, a couple say their prayers…
… and the grass grows wild and rubbish collects on the terraces.
Soon it is time to descend the stairs, pass the money collection bins, and exit the pagoda ~ and to reenter the “every day” world… where more “natural” photos await.
Certainly, there are pros and cons of traveling with a photo group.
But I love that it gets me to places I might not otherwise go, and stretches me to make pictures I might not otherwise attempt.
And, ultimately, it means coming home with so many pictures it is hard to know where to start!
Hi Ursula,
i’m Claudio from Italy,
could i use your stunning Little Novice photo in a catalogue, for a new organic, biological and ethically produced cosmetic skincare? Let me know if it’s possible.
Thank you in advance for your disposability and compliments for your works.ReplyCancel
Kings Road, Brighton Rugged-up against the weather, pedestrians make the best of a break in the rain.
Rumour has it that Great Britain has experienced a true summer this last July. This “heatwave” has health professionals worried, while other Britons head to the beach to bask.
Of course, it isn’t usually so. Last July, when we visited Brighton Beach for two days, the weather – rain and black clouds with intermittent sunshine – was probably more typical of an “average” British summer.
Naturally, if you only have a day or so to visit a place, you take the weather as it comes! But, while Brighton has been known as a health resort for sea bathing since the 18th century, and became a popular day-trip destination for Londoners with the arrival of the railway in 1841, it really wasn’t turning the beach weather on for us.
West Pier Built in 1866 and abandoned in 1975, the ruins of the West Pier sit against threatening black clouds. Hardy Britons enjoy the waterfront regardless.
Hot Fish No matter what the weather – it is always time for fresh fish and chips!
Beach Ball and Chain? Brighton’s waterfront is reflected in a large disco ball.
On the Pier Protected from the elements by raincoats and umbrellas, tourists venture out onto the famous pier.
Look to the Surf… Bodyboarders defy the cold Atlantic to catch a few “waves”.
Tarot and Rain “I see showers in your future.”
Rain and Lace Built between 1891 and 1899, the Brighton Marine Palace and Pier, as it is officially called, features some wonderful wrought iron work.
The Brighton Wheel Not too many takers on this day; the carriages all appear to be empty.
Dress Shop Taking refuge in quaint stores is one way to escape the climate.
The Royal Pavilion Built in the Indo-Saracenic style popular in colonial India in the 19th century, the Brighton Pavilion was a royal retreat for George, Prince of Wales, later King George IV, from 1787 onwards.
Playing the Crowd During a brief respite from the rain, people wander through the Royal Pavilion grounds.
Clarinet and Bubbles Like magical musical notes, bubbles float on the air while the clarinetist plays on.
Brighton Street The next day, the weather was much improved…
Brighton Beach … but black clouds still loomed over the rocky, shingle beach.
Beach Chairs Canvas chairs sit empty.
Rust and Ruin Old boats and bits of machinery are out-door parts of the Brighton Fishing Museum.
Cockles and Lobster Tail Cups of fresh seafood are available from the fridge…
Smokehouse Door … or you can buy something from one of the many shops in the converted row of Victorian fishermen’s workshops.
Punch Originally the Italian Pulcinella, Punch (with Judy and a cast of characters) became synonymous with beach entertainment.
Fish Nets and Crab Traps The Brighton Fishing Museum is dedicated to all things maritime.
Carousel
Pigs! Shop keepers, trusting the rain would hold off, moved their wares out of doors.
Royal Pavilion After walking the distance between the two piers, we couldn’t resist returning to see what the Royal Pavilion looked like in better weather …
Domes and Minarets … and it is lovely …
Brighton Royal Palace Gardens … but, as dark clouds rolled in again, we decided it was best to leave!
We escaped back to our vehicle – umbrellas hoisted – as the raindrops started to fall..
I hope this year’s visitors realise how lucky they are to have genuine summer, beach weather.
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
“Original” or not, the experience is as important to me as the outcome. I love the travel, and the chance to see places for myself, especially those iconic and oft-visited places that have been photographed many, many times before.
Sobering thought – after a long day’s drive through the sacred hills.
We escaped back to our vehicle – umbrellas hoisted – as the raindrops started to fall..
