The Canadian Rockies, Day 3: Moraine Lake, Saddleback Pass & Takakkaw Falls

Lightscapes Nature Photography Blog

In the aftermath of a disappointing day at Lake O’Hara, I had hopes for better luck on Day 3.  My plan was to shoot sunrise at Moraine Lake, about a 20-25 minute drive from where I was staying at Lake Louise Village.  The forecast was for mostly cloudy conditions, but I was hoping that I’d get lucky.  As I made the drive, in the dark, down the winding Moraine Lake Road, I could see no stars when I glanced out the window.  As a result, I expected no sunrise this morning.

There was some ambient light when I reached Moraine Lake itself, and because of the time I took to scout the location on Day 1 , I immediately headed to a spot along the lake shore, rather than climbing up to the rock pile, as many photographers automatically do.  The sky was indeed mostly cloudy, but there was…

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A 9/11 photo returned after 13 years

The Longform Interviewer

Cover photo courtesy of the Prints and Photographs Division. Library of Congress, USA.

Days after the tragic events of 9/11 a photo was found in the streets. It came from an office on the 77th floor of the South Tower. 13 years later it was returned to the owner. This is an incredible story about the power of social media and how people from around the world can come together.

« I knew it was going viral. Every tech device we had in the house started going crazy beeping and dinging with alerts. It was wild, » says Elizabeth Stringer Keefe. Every year on September 11 she posted the photo, hoping someone somewhere would know who was in it.

In this interview she shares the story about how the photo was first found, the process of locating the owner, and how she cried when she finally did.

The photo of a happy wedding party, lost at…

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Do Something Pointless

Christopher Shelby

Do something pointless for 20 minutes this week.

Do something devoid of meaning, devoid of effectiveness, something having little or no sense or purpose.

That may be tough for you to pull off. Our American culture has always been purposeful and effective. We pushed West to get more and more land. Manifest Destiny filled our scruffy settlers with meaning and they pushed. Full of purpose and meaning, we pushed for bigger and better and faster and more. We made cars. Then more cars and bigger cars. Rockets were even faster than cars. We shot upward full of purpose into space. We planted a flag on the land of the moon, that beckoning frontier. We have always been an active culture, pushing effectively for bigger-better-faster.

Our wages grew the whole time. Our success grew and grew, we were effective and purpose-filled. By the 1970s we led the world in many ways…

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About Books and Writing

"Of the Making of Books there is no end..." (Ecc 12:12)

My admiration for authors, people who have written books, goes back to my childhood and runs deep in my psyche. This admiration is threefold. I grew up idolizing those authors–Anne McCaffrey, Frank Herbert, Isaac Asimov, and Michael Moorcock–who filled my youth with their imaginative worlds. At the same time I grew up in a traditional Jewish household, and from a young age I was exposed to traditional Jewish scholars, many of whom are referred to by the title of their books (e.g., The Tur for Rabbi Yaakov Ben Asher and Beyt Yossef for Rabbi Joseph Caro). Being a member of « The People of The Book » for me was understood to mean you were expected to write a book. Finally I grew up in academic household, with a father and an uncle who were prolific writers and publishers (even as my uncle struggled to find an academic position, he had no problems writing…

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Tales from the Diner

Ice Cream for Dinner

I have a secret. I have kept it for years. It is the kind of secret that you don’t dare tell, if not for fear of the possible consequences, for fear that no one will listen. Both outcomes are unwelcome and damaging in their own right.

My friends and I have shared this secret and all its grisly details over eager sips of coffee after long overnight shifts, our voices heightened in our rage and our exhaustion. I had hurriedly whispered conversations with my coworkers during hasty smoke breaks and bathroom trips. These were girls with whom I had nothing in common – save our employment and our secret. Sometimes we exploded. Sometimes we wept.

It is not that I am weary from this business of silence; I have not broken. But I realize now that I have no reason to let my anger lie dormant. The injustice has become unpalatable.

For…

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The Top 5 Longreads of the Week

Longreads

Below, our favorite stories of the week. Kindle users, you can also get them as a Readlist.

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Life in a Haunted House

Cold

We never get any trick-or-treaters. I can tell myself that it’s because we’re the only house on a dead-end street and surely, being off the beaten path is part of the problem. But if I’m to be completely honest, it’s because I know that little kids are afraid of our home.

Yes, we live in THAT house.

It’s the one we all dared each other to visit on Halloween. The one that got the occasional egging from only the bravest, most rebellious teens. The one that made toddlers cry.

In the neighborhood I grew up in outside of Chicago, there was a dark, recessed house that looked like a Turkish prison. It definitely stuck out, as the rest of the homes in our neighborhood had been built in the early 1960s and had a decidedly family-friendly feel to them. Swing sets in the back yard, goofy Halloween decorations and middle…

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Because i was twenty-one: Why i’m not done with the Jian Ghomeshi abuse story

Begins With Lemon and Ends With Pie

[Content note: abuse, being disbelieved]

Since last night, almost as soon as the Toronto Star published the article wherein eight women — including Lucy Decoutere — came forward with allegations of abuse by Jian Ghomeshi, i’ve been reading a number of variations on the theme of being done with the Jian story. And i can sympathize.

I’m done with Jian Ghomeshi too.

But I’m not done with Lucy Decoutere.

I’m not done with any of the other seven women whose stories are reported by the Star.

I’m not done with the unnamed woman who spoke yesterday evening on CBC’s As It Happens.

I’m not done with any potential survivors who haven’t spoken yet.

I’m not even done with them if they don’t speak.

I’m not done with the women who have been assaulted by other famous or well-loved men.

I’m not done with the women who were assaulted by men…

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Frightful Films

The Honest Courtesan

Where there is no imagination there is no horror.  –  Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

“Scary Movies” is the name of my one year ago today column, but it’s about the interaction between porn and escorting; I did do a short piece on vampire sex workers as part of October Miscellanea, but since I really love horror movies, I think we’re long overdue for a discussion of them.  Before we start I should mention that slasher flicks aren’t horror; yes, I know that video stores stock them with horror and movie companies often stamp “horror” on the boxes, but that’s about as valid an argument as “the sex offender registry is not a criminal penalty because it is housed in an administrative agency, not in a court office or in an agency charged with carrying out punishment.”  Slashers are actually more closely related to porn than horror…

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