First Two Weeks, March 1st to March 14th
The art centre is located on the waterfront in Finn Bay. There is a cluster of homes with several eclectic docks and a watercraft collection; across is the old whaling station, now the Marine Group, which runs the Savory Island ferry and has a landing craft for transporting vehicles and construction materials to remote areas.
March Second
The shoreline is covered in orange rock at the intertidal zone capped with a white rock and accented with black stains.
March Third
Exploring the foreshore sculptures against the rock wall while towering above is the three-storey bedecked house perched on the slope’s edge.
March Fourth
It rained overnight on the lumen prints, and down the road, with heavy packsacks and gear, construction workers were gathering on the dock to be ferried to Savory Island. Some were sipping their morning coffee, others looking out into the distance, where the snow-tipped mountains on the distant shore disappeared into the descending clouds. The rain began to set in, deepening the colour on the rocks and trees that line the shore. A construction vehicle starts up and begins to roll onto the landing craft whose mouth is on the ramp, once on the craft moves dramatically as the truck slowly balances its weight. Suddenly, an eagle, fish in claws, undulating its wings with force, passes across my vision.
As the rain begins to dry, rich colours, such as oranges, deep blues, and greens, appear where the sea has receded. In the sea grass, oranges give way to yellows that run until the cobalt blues.
March Fifth
In the morning, it was clear that the sun heating the room is a welcome change. Walking through its rays to the window and below the tide is full. A white dog is standing in the water, quietly staring toward the birds floating just out of reach. I turn toward the truck, and it starts. Slowly, the road snakes into town. There the water taxi’s are moving out, one still half cocked with an uneven load rounding the last dock before beginning to accelerate—the cramped cabin of communiters behind the closed plastic doors still working on levelling the boat.
Afterwards, the gas dock sits obediently, its triad casts a reflection, this harbour sentinel, yachts, and treeline moving my eyes toward cloud banks on the distant mountains.
Sitting back in the chair in the day’s heat, the sky is building clouds, the warmth wanes, the clouds disperse, and a chill returns. The day becomes night, and the sky filled with stars reflects in the still waters of the cove.
March Sixth
This morning, the frost painted the car on the south side, and the ramps to the dock were slick and glistening in the low sunlight. The water taxi dock is beginning to collect its morning crew.
Leaving the harbour and climbing the stone stairs to a narrow path, that weaves around a rockface and trunks. Then downward towards the water’s edge looking out over Savory Island.
Behind me was a rock face that fell toward small stones that radiated larger as they moved toward the salt water. Above the rock ascended in a deep cobalt, then a cerelian blue capped with greens interrupted by limb debris from the firs above.
March Seventh
The clouds have rolled in again, and the seal is lying on his back and twirling in the bay before disappearing. On the landing across the way, a long dog is parading about the roadway and then gazing down beneath the emerald waters. The even light, along with the slight purple edge to the clouds, tells us that the rain is returning.
March Eighth
The radio broadcast warns of another atmospheric river—200mm, they say. Out the window, the drizzle is beginning. After a few hours, the rain is constant, the variations in the sky have consolidated into a uniform, nondescript colour, and the trees and rocks have taken on a darker tone.
March NInth
This morning, the rain was constant, and in the bay, the horizon merged with the sea. The small gully cut beside the road is full of orange-coloured water rushing through the culverts and being shot out into the bay through the galvanized steel pipe resting between the shore rock face.
March Tenth
The atmospheric river has passed and the chill has returned, everywhere there is water. Spilling over the scrub and onto the road, filling the seasonal streams beyond their banks, as I walk down the hill to the waterfront, the morning traffic of pickup trucks and trailers is making their way to the launch ramp. Savory, Cortez, Redonda, Hernando… off to build on the coast. The boat ramp lowers and down the incline, a large trailer filled with material slowly backs over the ramp and onto the deck. Once on board the boat churns a white froth in the emerald water and powers out of the harbour.
March Eleventh
I was wrong. This morning, there was heavy rain, presenting small ponds everywhere, but by mid-morning, the sky was breaking through, and calm settled in again. In that early dawn, smoke from the steel chimneys billowed into the rain, signalling fires lit for breakfast. The smoke rose in a large bloom, a foot, then moved diagonally across and between the trees and out into the bay—a trace of the wood smoke in the trees, fogging pieces of the scene.
Today is a day to be loose.
March Twelfth
Light is moving through the clouds behind me, sending itself onto the harbour, beyond there is a dark turbulent and irritated, a new wave of rain. Yet it hangs in the distance and the sky above unlocks the warmth, holds me in place, soaking it in.
Today a little more experimentation with watercolour but mostly the processing of images.
March Thirteenth
There was heavy rain and hail last night, but this morning, it is brilliantly sunny with an incredible pink sunrise. In the bay, the emerald is lit up by the sun, and gentle ripples disturb the surface. The seals couple came into the bay for breakfast at high tide, only discernable by the two subtle Vs on the water’s surface.
I wondered if I could get a good image from the camera when the sun dipped behind a bit of cloud. You can see the original unprocessed file and the final file below. To get the dynamic range under control, after denoising the image I applied a mask to the sky and then inverted the mask to process the sea. This took the image just so far and maxed out a few sliders in Lightroom. To get more range on the sliders, I placed a second mask over the sky and managed to get it balanced, I think, also inverted the second mask to adjust the sea.
March Fourteenth
After such a clear night, the morning was much less dramatic, just a sky with a resolute tone rising from the ocean and islands, as I began clambering on the rock beach.
