The strange and wonderful world of the Yukon through a macro lens

This afternoon I explored a different world, and it was only 10 minutes from my house.

Something magical happens in the woods when you take a closer look. There is a world of activity and change going on right before our eyes, it's just too small to see unless you are very very close. 

Ever since we moved to the Yukon I've felt very grateful to have abundant nature literally on my doorstep. This afternoon, I headed out to the Hidden Lakes trails with my a 100mm Macro Lens on my camera, no schedule to keep and no one's agenda but my own. I've walked this trail before and admired the flowers and scenery, but this time I saw the local flora in a whole new way.

As usual, the Wild Rose was abundant and beautiful, but this time I noticed the plant in all it's stages.

Once I started looking closer I discovered insects everywhere in the midst of their mysterious rites. I tried to guess at their motives as they continued in their inscrutable ways, oblivious to my presence. I saw ant acrobatics, bees with strange orange pouches, something that might have been an ant daycare and I think I photographed beetle porn or cannibalism, I'm not sure which.

The flowers, leaves and mosses I encountered became stranger and more detailed as I looked closer. Where once I saw a "Purple Flower," now their individuality became apparent, not just in the flowers themselves, but their leaves and stems as well.


Head in the clouds

Here we are 2500 feet closer to the sky than if we were at sea. Clouds drift by, sometimes blocking the mountains from view, sometimes engulfing us completely.

Low clouds over the peak of Mount Lorne. Photo by Christa Galloway.

The light is different here. A low sun illuminating low clouds gives the sky an appearance that is so different from where I come from, that it sometimes seems alien, a suitable backdrop for Captain Picard's number one, Riker and his away team. (Yes, I prefer STTNG to the originals, and yes, I am a complete nerd.)

Cool skies in the Yukon. Photo by Christa Galloway.

The result of all this is that I often find myself outside in my slippers shivering, taking photos of the ever-changing sky. Maybe one day I'll look out and it will be so ordinary I will decide to keep my feet warm and stay inside. But that day is not today.

A light frosting

I woke up yesterday morning and the world was frosted white. White snow, white trees, white clouds. Later in the day the clouds broke up into regimented sections and marched across the sky, leaving behind a brilliant blue. When I left my house for my afternoon walk with Oscar, I left my camera behind, because really, how many times can you photograph the same thing? Of course, once we were out there I realized my iPhone was not going to cut the mustard so I bribed my snowsuit-clad three-year-old to return to the house with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows so I could fetch my camera. And I'm glad I did.