From Norway to New Zealand, from Newfoundland to Vancouver Island, travel has provided a wonderful opportunity to see the world through my lens. I find it intriguing to freeze the moment and capture the exact slice of life that I witnessed, with the click of a shutter.
So whether it's a beautiful landscape, or a touching personal interaction amongst locals, I love to bring my vacation memories home with me. And I love sharing them with you, too. Who knows. Perhaps your eyes caught the same scenes as mine when you last visited there.
Over the course of time, I'll share stories through images, from places such as Portugal, Spain, France, Italy, England and Norway across the Atlantic. Or places such as New Zealand, Australia and Hawaii in the Pacific. Or the Caribbean and the US. Having slept in each of the ten Canadian Provinces, I've gained an appreciation for Canada. But my favourite place to explore is still close to home. I've discovered Oxford County to be very photogenic, and pastoral by nature.
If this is your first visit to my website, please do check in with me from time to time, to see where I've been with my camera. We're best friends! Meanwhile, here's a poem written by poet, Ron Wilding, especially for me.
Sight and Sense
Painted with lens and eye as shutter still,
Now captured forever on canvas or behind glass
Gifted senses of flora and fauna,
Rock and bird, tranquil and serene
Memories of Spring and time now past,
Purple and pink silk with tongue of green
An artist's eye and lens as one to see
Petals white and veined as a human hand
Houses in rows of jeweled toned fronts
Symmetrical and simple, living now as in past
The quiet stillness and gentle rolling hills
Of kiln and buggy, draft and ponied eyes
Sea meets sky, the lighthouse once a mariner's sentry
A winter white tree stands stark against a grey backlit sky
All of nature's unspoiled brilliance, pictured and painted
The artist lens brushed the stillness of life perpetual
Never to escape our joy, and notion,
That our world and life is still beautiful without motion.
- R. Wilding, October 2013