Yeah that is me. Well, ok, it was.

I'm a little bigger now, there are a few less folicals and the ones that remain are not their original colour (Canadian Spelling, eh). But, just because there is snow on the roof, it doesn't mean that there isn't a fire in the cabin.

Actually, 25 years really doesn't seem all that long ago. This background shot was taken with an Kodak instamatic camera on a three day canoe trip along the Wolf and Pickeral Rivers near Port Loring, Ontario. It was a trip with my best friend, Herman, coming up on 47 years now, where we happened on a nice site the day after this one.

While there, I stumbled upon a couple of the nicest pieces of dry birch I had ever seen. They were laying there with my name on them and were looking to be firewood. Naturally, I was happy to oblige and after dinner and cracking open a box of Cellar Cask wine, if anyone remembers that, I set upon constructing the largest and most grandiose bonfire of my life. It was an accomplishment I was eager to share but, alas, the wine got the better of Herman and he crawled into the tent. Now, I, on the other hand, had only just begun. With the fire blazing and a hatchet in my hand, I started dancing, Indian style, and chanting at the top of my lungs like a native calling to his spirits. I was probably lucky they didn't hear me, or maybe they knew enough to ignore a fool. At any rate, Herman, moaning in agony inside the tent, wasn't about to get any sleep with the firelight dancing on the tent walls, interupted by the silhouette of a lunatic wielding a wannabe tomahawk over his head and waking the dead. I still chuckle over the picture in my mind when I think of it.

The next morning the two of us were probably sporting the two largest heads on the river, moose and bear notwithstanding. However, after we broke camp and began our paddle, we were both silenced by the stillness of a mist covered waterway. It surrounded us like a puffy gray blanket and caused us both to dip our paddles in a way as not to disturb a serenity rarely encountered. I have always loved the northland and my passion for it remains, but I'll always remember that morning as the closest to inner piece I have ever been.

I have been snapping pictures ever since I was about twelve and began with an old Kodak Brownie No. 2. Kids laughed at that camera until they saw the photos. Since then, I have taken every oportunity to experience nature, photograph it, be in it, and try to find another opportunity to re-experience that morning, all the while armed with a camera. For almost 40 years I have been taking shots and experimenting with angles and shooting conditions and now I have found a venue to share what I have done.

A Pentax MG SLR, a Christmas present from my parents, travelled with me many places through many years, but it finally expired on me at the top of the Firetower in Fushimi Provincial Park in Northern Ontario; a story for another time. Anyway, now I go digital and the shooting continues...

More to come...

Thanks

Randy Hobson