It would be much funnier if they were called Surf Scooters, but I didn’t name them. They arrived a few days ago, touching down in the water right next to the Sea Wall. From a distance, the flock looked like a long line of debris afloat on the calm surface of English Bay. But as I got nearer, activity became apparent and the line morphed into a shape-shifting congregation of thousands of birds.

Google revealed that most of them are Surf Scoters, a species of sea ducks. Among them cruise a few Barrow’s Goldeneyes. They seem to be spending most of their time feeding, diving in groups of 10 to 100 individuals for crustaceans and mollusks. Why they all dive together, I could not say. It appears to be triggered in a ripple effect similar to fish reacting to each other in a bait ball.

These photos were taken early Saturday morning on my way to the park for some fall colours and a new session of macro photography, but these will be the subject of another post. The light was low and the sky covered. Humidity thickened the air. People would pause in their stroll and watch the flock pulsate in all directions like a beating heart, a stone’s throw away from shore.

Even in the rain, Vancouver still manages to amaze me.

No, the blog isn’t dead. It hasn’t even gone into hibernation. The reason for such blatant blogging inactivity on my part is a rather productive one: I am redesigning the web site from scratch.

Ironically, Coriolistic Anachronisms isn’t being touched, having received a recent face lift which I’m still pretty content with. But everything else, especially the photo galleries, will morph. At the heart of the new site is a Flash-based set of galleries embedded into an HTML exoskeleton. I am using the brilliant SlideshowPro for this and have had to brush up on my Flash programming skills (but like bow hunting and biking skills, they never completely go away. )

The very slick Shadowbox remains both as this blog’s main slideshow engine and as the new site’s HTML page navigator. The guestbook, its script having been abandoned by the creator and criticized for its security flaws, will have to go or be replaced, I haven’t decided yet. Many new photos will populate the galleries and old ones will be removed.

Last but not least, the web site URL is going to change completely. I’ll take this in stages, using a redirect at first to allow for a seamless transition, and I will post many a reminder to upgrade your bookmarks. Photo-xposure.com has done its time, paid its dues and served its purpose. In comes the new king. It will probably simply be based on my name (boring I know, but logical as a portfolio tool.)

A new section will take advantage of my yet untapped SmugMug account and will offer options for buying digital photos and prints online.

This will be, all in all, a major upgrade. So please bare bear with me, arm yourselves with patience and watch for the announcement when I go live. It should be before Christmas. I hope.

I don’t know about you but I will be having a blast this week-end. Should your own outlook be bleak, you can watch the following very interesting videos from TED: Arthur Benjamin: Lightning calculation and other « Mathemagic » and Hans Rosling: Debunking third-world myths with the best stats you’ve ever seen.

Oh but are you, maybe, unfamiliar with TED? It stand for Technology, Entertainment, Design and describes itself as « The annual conference now brings together the world’s most fascinating thinkers and doers, who are challenged to give the talk of their lives (in 18 minutes). »

It’s official. Having received unconditional support from my readers today (all three of you, thank you), I have decided to come forward and run. I want my entry into the political race to be a memorable event and I am confident you will all support me through to the finish line. I promise not to pace myself and will win this with hard work, honest sweat and a few energy bars. Here are, hence, my single-day campaign and a one-on-oneself debate while I run for Prime President of Canada as head of the New Maniac Party.

Dear fellow Canadians,

Together, we shall turn green.

On this day of National Elections and while ballots are still going into the urns, I urge you, as a nation and a responsible people, to urgently reject other candidates and previous votes accumulated today, and to elect me, Vincent Mounier, as Canada’s new Prime Minister. While my arguments will be powerful and my policies irresistible, should you find yourself wondering « Why must I vote for you? », I will first give you the short answer: because I, too, would do it for you.

Not convinced yet? Consider this: I have a bald head like Peter Garrett. I own a Canon Camera. My First Lady will be the prettiest and smartest ever to throne. I hate ticks and pigeons but love all other animals. It was my idea not yours. All of which are undeniable qualities for the above mentioned title. Furthermore, I can solemnly promise you, here and now, that I will never lie*, cheat or deceive you, and that I was rated by a local survey as the best candidate among those living on Harwood Street in Vancouver on an east facing 15th floor carpeted apartment, to run for such office.

Now that I have convinced you, let’s get down to business. The NMP party is the ultimate cure to our country’s (and the whole world’s, for that matter) existential crisis. I single-handedly will fix our environmental, economic and cultural issues. (By cultural issues, I am mostly referring to a national weakness towards Celine Dion, who must be silenced not only because of her obvious relation to my Liberal opponent but mostly to prevent additional rainy days in British Columbia.)

To achieve this, I have already drafted 156 laws that will become effective as soon as you eh-lect me tonight. Do not fear, laws are the skeleton of a country, they sharpen its justice system like a sword-maker his blade. Here is a non-exhaustive list of my pledges to you, Canadians and Canadians (this speech was written in French, the use of masculine and feminine being lost in our translation for the English-speaking minority):

• Anti-Tick-and-Pigeon Bill Number 13b: this project will outlaw pigeon and tick presence in public spaces, just like it was so successfully done with smoking. We will open a trade agreement with Italy and Vermont, shipping our surplus of the former to Venice and the latter to the Appalachians.

• Grouper, Wild Salmon, Killer Whale and Nudibranch Protection Act: This is just the right thing to do and take the word of someone who’s actually hugged a grouper, we will get plenty of affection and good vibes in return. (N.B. The nudibranch population hasn’t been reported as endangered yet but they are just too cute to resist and they might sell very well as an aphrodisiac to the Japanese, if we control the market.)

• Broccoli Incentive and Tax Adjustment 348.48: by lowering taxes for families of 4 and over who grow their own broccoli, we hope to convince most of the population to eat well and disregard rumours that the wonderful vegetable causes chronic shutter trigger, a rare photographer disease. This will obviously scratch two itches with the same nail and contribute to our relief efforts towards the on-going US Liberal invasion.

• Motor Vehicle Regulations Amendment, 2008c: SUV’s, trucks, planes, sports cars, gas lawn mowers and barbecues on wheels become the object of a special exponential tax. The more you use them, the harder you get nailed. Don’t think it’s unfair, I will be hit as hard as everyone else. I cut my grass at least twice a week, and I like to cut it under my opponent’s feet every other day. The tax money will be used for special research projects. While I am not at liberty to discuss the specifics, I can tell you that they will involve the application of quantum physics to Friday Night Pottery Classes, as well as an attempt to have the Bottlenose Dolphin genus and species changed from Tursiops troncatus to Molson inebriatus. We got a sponsor.

And the list goes on. But make no mistake about it, we are green. Our traffic laws will turn you green. Our party golf tournaments will aim for the green. Please send our headquarters a check for the amount of $CA15.95 when voting, and my staff will be delighted to send you my new eBook containing a complete list of these laws and their applications, as well as a 120-page brand new report on my favourite techniques for obtaining and retaining electors, and as a bonus, you will get, free of charge, a 10 page booklet on a secret technique to legally deduct the cost of this package from next year’s taxes.

Plus, if you vote within the next 30 minutes, you get, absolutely free, a signed copy of my soon-to-be bestseller « The power of Power, a Powerful Story of Power and How to Get, Keep and Sell It. » Green hardcover. 234 pages.

Don’t wait. Vote now. Vote Vince. Before it’s too late. Let’s show the world that Canada knows a good maniac when it sees one. Avoid turning the blue tide into a red one, jump to green. Vote NMP.

Addendum - Message from the First Cat, Don Estorbo de la Bodega Verde: We’ll also rid you of dogs and send them to Asia. People can eat them there, it won’t be a waste and they can come back as baby formula. (He has a big mouth but his heart is where that mouth is. A pellet bowl.)

* Promise not to lie exclusive of, and not limited to, political white lies, signature of International Treaties, meaningfully kissing babies, next campaign headlines and official party position on the use of unapproved electronics after plane take off.

It’s 9:00 AM and already, I feel sad. Today is Election Day. Canadians will choose themselves a new puppet. My sadness comes from the dull knowledge that none of the candidates likely to win are really any good, or colorful, or righteous. None of them, in my eyes, seem able to steer Canada into a better lane. They will not keep us out of foreign war zones nor will they turn our country into the change leader it could be.

It was found in a survey this year that 15% of Canadians would rather give up their Federal Elections ballot to vote instead in the upcoming US elections, and I am one of them. The choices we are about to make at home appear so insignificant compared to those about to be cast south of us. Ours will likely, this time again, be of no consequence to our way of life, all major parties having lead surprisingly similar campaigns. If they all mostly agree about their goals, this will be an election of faces and personalities, and I don’t like any of them. US elections, on the other hand, are likely to affect not only every American’s life but the entire world.

So my sadness probably resonates with the Earth’s. She cries in pain and watches our pitiful battles for the privilege to pillage and plunder her, to rape and to murder her children, to abuse a power we never were granted in the first place. It must be such a ridiculous spectacle.

Could we possibly wake up from our trance and act before it’s too late? What Canada needs right now isn’t another « political leader ». We have had those forever, and they have all played the same subdued role, keeping us warm, keeping us fed, keeping us nice and in the shadow of our southern big brother. What we need today is a good maniac. Someone willing to risk everything in order to radically change our way of life and place Canada on the cutting edge of reform, a leader in environmentally-savvy, economically innovative initiatives.

Yes, it would be a huge risk to take, it would shake everyone’s long-acquired habits and comfort. What, I can only drive around in my giant SUV every other day? (It’s been done in Mexico City.) What, I can actually buy myself an environment-friendly, alternative-powered vehicle? (They have been invented for decades, but the oil companies were in bed with car manufacturers.) What, I have to pay an extra tax on junk food and processed crap? (Why not, it would favour local farmers and improve our kids’ health.) What, I must own a bike and ride it to work to pay less taxes? (Sure, and you might even get used to it.) What, I must donate so many hours of my life a week to community projects? (Yeah, that way you’ll bitch less about the homeless and will actually stand a chance of improving your neighborhood the way you really want it.) Heck this is not a Communist regime, I want Harper back! (Too late, he immigrated to the US and is dealing arms with ex-President Bush.)

Granted, there would be a lot to loose to such a gamble if things went wrong, a country’s economy turning to a volatile and fragile sand castle in times of change. But make no mistake about it, we are loosing it all as we speak, any way. Just ever so softly we have numbed ourselves to the fear, and if death is creeping in at an increasing speed, it’s under the blessed cover of willful ignorance. Just like stranded mountain climbers on their last bivouac, we are drifting into our final sleep as the cold seizes our limbs and inches towards the core. Except this time, the killer is heat.

And none of the major candidates this year have promised to reverse that. But they will address the $100 tax rebate. I expected no less.

It was late. The day drew to an end as I drove away from the partial sunlight of red flooded fields towards the mountains, and menacing clouds were gathering up to greet me into the evening. There wasn’t much traffic on the road - the only people out and about probably being chronic Sunday shoppers. I crossed New Westminster, following the Fraser River for a while and then headed north to Port Moody. Moody indeed was the sky when I got there; dark, convoluted clouds clung to the peaks that tightly surround Indian Arm, shrouding them in a tight pale robe. I dashed right through the town and turned uphill through a residential neighborhood, bound for the end of the road. Houses grew scarce, rain began to fall and the world turned black. It was a strange day to visit Butzen Lake. I would, however, be likely to find some peace by its shores on such a lonely night.

I parked in an almost empty lot as a few people rushed back to their cars, escaping the deluge. But as I was walking towards the water through magnificent trees, camera safely tucked into my jacket, I could feel the rain easing up; it seemed that against all odds, the sky might have had exhausted its anger for the night. When I reached the shoreline, merely a few drops were still troubling the mirror-like surface of the lake and while clouds still hung on to the slopes of the mountains above, a clearing was in the making at the opposite end of the valley and some blue sky timidly appeared. The light was uneven, complicated and fragmented. There was a slight flavour of my Alps in the air.

I walked around for some time, taking pictures, breathing in the humidity, listening to the forest noises and noticing an absolute absence of nearby civilization, except for an odd generator across the lake. By Butzen Lake, deceivingly close to Vancouver, one can feel isolated and forget about the city. I looked around, perplexed, attempting unsuccessfully to reconcile the two worlds that were elbowing each other in my mind, like kids competing for the attention of an adult. Here I was, mostly alone in a beautiful mountain setting, with the City of Glass nearby and the Pacific Ocean’s water just on the other side of a ridge. But then there I wished I had been, far to the east in an urban urchin of incredible size, an ant amongst millions of other ants, finding beauty in the company of just one.

Nothing is ever perfect, except, maybe, imperfection. But I sure wished Marie had been there.

Three years ago in fall, after finding mesmerizing pictures of it on a blog, I set out to shoot the cranberry harvest in Richmond. I’ve been going back ever since and it’s become a pleasant ritual, one that reminds me not only of leaves soon turning gold and approaching winter, but also of the evolution of my photography path. I shot the first season with my old trusted Canon G3, the second with the 400D and this year’s with Abetoo, my new 450D and IS lenses. Without a doubt, I’ll come back next year with a 1Ds Mark III. So what if it costs the price of a used car? I’ll be rich and famous.

As a reminder, cranberry harvesting is the yearly act of collecting all those pretty little red berries and sending them on their way to your can of juice. It’s an autumn routine that takes anywhere from a few days to a couple weeks of intensive work. The fields are first flooded, sending the ripest berries floating to the surface; the rest are mechanically shaken loose. They are then gathered tightly with long floating rubber nets and pulled to a corner of the field like a giant red tide. There, a powerful spray of water pushes them up a conveyor belt and they are loaded into trucks, while men keep herding the berries in, threading through 2 or 3 feet of fruit-covered water.

It makes for rather surreal scenes and color is everywhere. Red of berries, blue of sky (when the weather cooperates!), green of surrounding fields, and the multicolored turbans of the workers. I began, 2 years back, by trying to capture contrasts and the overwhelming reddish glow of the scene. By now, I have become more fascinated by nuances and textures, and the human factor. Hence, most of the shots today are portraits. Cranberries are nothing without the men who harvest them. It’s not such a difficult endeavour, it would seem, but rather a matter of patience.

« A huge field like this, one of the men tells me, could be harvested in a single day if we have enough labour. That’s about 9 truck loads. Right now we only have 2 trucks, so it will take a couple of days. » The flooded field he’s waving at proudly is larger than a football field. The men are happy to pose for the pictures; the poor boogers probably figure they will end up on some newspaper cover. I’m glad I don’t have to explain. Corio-what?

After watching the harvest for the third time, I still find myself drifting into a fantasy world. The red parterre reminds me of a bubble-gum ocean through which grown-ups would plow endlessly, oblivious to the magic, busy, resigned. How relevant a comparison to life in general…

Here’s a sneak peak at the full gallery, 30 pictures in all, to be featured on the new web site.

Today I was invited to the Imax theatre at Canada Place for an advance screening of Giant Screen Films’ new Wild Ocean 3D, a documentary about the sardine run off the east coast of South Africa. It had been a long time since an large screen movie had blown me out of my seat. Granted, I’m not that hard to impress when it comes to giant screens, underwater footage and beautiful images. Yet my recent experiences were rather disappointing and this spring’s Dolphins and Whales 3D was a let down.

That all changed today. Wild Ocean 3D actually lived up to my all-time favourite Deep Sea 3D. While Deep Sea 3D featured amazing shots and near-perfect 3D technique, its narrative by Kate Winslet and Johnny Depp was quite cheesy. Wild Ocean fixed that. For a change, Giant Screen Films have produced a serious documentary, one with breathtaking images, a solid soundtrack and a well written narration that actually fits in and keeps you interested and involved. 

Of course, I am biased. I love the ocean. And it so happens that I now love that part of the world too. But the images were really superb, both above and below the surface. They managed to keep the human element present by reflecting on the impact of such an important multi-species migration on the lives of local populations.

The movie obviously preaches towards the conservation of our oceans but does it in a much more subtle and intelligent way then other movies, and I find it refreshing to be shown beauty and then told to preserve it, rather than having my face shoved into the terrible abuse we inflict on our planet and then have a lecturing finger waved at me while a sermonizing voice says something like « Listen, you guilty fool. They are bad, we are bad, you are bad. Everything’s bad. It must change, or else. We are right about this being wrong. It’s all right to feel like we have gone wrong and it will soon be too late. Brace yourself. Run for cover. Stop eating food and breathing air. Each time you move an inch you hurt the planet. » Etc. Your mind goes down in a spiral and you walk out of the theater more depressed than a penguin without water to swim in.

But Wild Ocean 3D only made me open my eyes very wide, it made my heart travel half-way across the globe, it made me want to see our world, to explore it, above and below, and to protect it by being wise, rather than by panicking.

Go see it!

From the Winnipeg Times

In the wake of a recent exodus of American liberals causing chaos at various Canadian entry points, authorities have taken the bull by the balls horns and hastily erected temporary refugee camps in order to contain the crisis while looking for long-term solutions. As of yesterday, most border crossings were still completely overwhelmed and extra Canada Customs Officers were being dispatched from the Yukon and the Arctic to reinforce our southern border. They will begin service as soon as they have thawed.

The camps have sparked much debate around them. « It’s extremely taxing on the local economy, » said John Zhou, a British Columbia resident. « We are small communities that normally only provide for ourselves. But then again we can’t let the poor boogers be sent back to face the Ku Klux Klan. » The Canadian government has been asking border area populations to be supportive but firm. « If you see liberals crossing your broccoli field, » the Prime Minister declared in a CBC interview Monday, « there is reason enough to believe they’re after your food and you are allowed to shoot them. On the other hand, let’s show some good old Canadian mercy and offer them free passage across our lands if they agree to go blindfolded. » Some farmers are infuriated by the leader’s stance. « The man is just weak, he wants to please everybody, » one said angrily. « He would like those liberals unharmed in case they can be exchanged within the scope of our so-called free-trade agreement. But the PM is obviously unaware of the damage a blind liberal can do to a crop. »

Local municipalities are taking these matters very seriously and advising residents to avoid broccoli fields after sunset. Passwords have been issued to all Canadian citizens for quick verbal identification after dark. They will be renewed weekly during a secret TV broadcast said to air right before Hockey Night. « We had to find a deeply rooted, all-Canadian value that only our population would recognize, » an official said about the password broadcast. « We wouldn’t want those liberals to tap in. But with Hockey Night, our secrecy is assured. I don’t think they even know how to play, let alone understand the TV guide. » Ironically, 2 hours after the first password was issued last week, it was cracked by a 12 year old liberal’s kid who posted it on his Facebook page with the comment « What’s a Gretzky? »

Within a few days of opening, all refugee camps were experiencing food shortages. « Each liberal eats like two of us, » said a cook. « We’re already out of free-range chicken, soy milk, flax seeds, wheat grass and most organic farm-grown veggies. » « They ask the strangest questions, » commented another man. « Like, this bloke wanted to know if we add hormones to our chickens after packaging them. How silly would that be, eh. »

But public support is rising and innovative solutions are being put forward. Near Toronto, refugee camps have begun serving Maple Leaf meat products to the liberals. « There’s no shortage of that meat, these days, » a volunteering mother laughed, « and as far as we know, it only kills Canadians. Besides, those liberals are illegal immigrants, they can’t be too picky. » In Vancouver, a firm is importing milk products from China at very low costs in order to supply the camps. « Milk is milk, » said the CEO of Radical Imports Inc., « and where it comes from should not matter to someone who is willing to leave a home country behind for mere political reasons. We do, however, recommend that liberals arriving with babies stick to breast feeding and boil their ideals for 3 minutes. »

With this flurry of activity at our borders, it’s easy to forget that real evil is driving the refugees out of their homes. Yet the Canadian Government announced last night that it will remain neutral not to offend either party. « We are acting a little like the Swiss here, » PM Harper said at the press conference. « Everybody is treated equally. An illegal border crossing can be quite messy, so we’ll clean them up and keep them organized and sedated. As a matter of fact, cuckoo clocks have been installed at major border crossings to help speed up the process. But if the conservatives come charging after the fugitives, we’ll treat them just as humanly and fairly. After all, they are in charge. »

The editor in chief of controversial activist newspaper The Sunday Pun, Langelot Laframboise, wrote in Friday’s editorial: « In these troubled times, every Canadian is aware of the menacing evil empire lurking south of us. A vicious Sith Lord has been in control there far too long and the new threat of another one rising to power is a sickening thought. Liberals are driven away from their hometowns like rats out of a sinking ship. It’s time for a Jedi Knight to reign, one who will provide rafts to the rats. For now, I can only approve of the poor bastards’ escape. » It might not be politically correct but it nails the issue on the head. For most Canadians, living on the Outer Rims normally means an occasional exposure to American drama. This time, however, the drama has crossed our borders along with the fleeing liberals. If nobody controls the situation south of us, we can kiss our broccoli good bye.

For Marie, who constantly reminds me how beautiful flowers can be.

This morning at 5:25 AM, I got up and prepared for a trip. I wasn’t going far and yet, I would explore a new universe. The objective was Stanley Park, my spaceship was a camera and for propulsion, I’d be tapping into macro theory. 

It was my first outing ever with Abetoo as a macro photography tool. We were both quite excited. Abetoo is my Canon 450D, in case you’re wondering if I’ve lost it. Granted, my current macro line of accessories consists of a single little black metal ring worth $10; it’s nothing to write home about but I will be expanding it over time. Bellows are on the way, and as soon as I can get my hand on a 58-39mm step down ring (anybody out there?), I’ll start using the Rodagon lens too.

Today, I was simply going to duplicate the previous setup and reverse-mount my Canon EF-S 18-55mm IS 1:3-5.6. I’d be using the silly little ring for that, and although I had no illusion on the initial quality of the images I’d capture, this was meant to be a field trip and first test. I needed to get a sense of how to juggle camera settings, deal with the extremely limited depth of field, compensate for the loss of auto-focus and aperture control, adapt Live View to my needs, gauge the possible combination of ISO and speeds, etc.

When I reached Beaver Lake, after a nice stroll and a cute encounter with a young raccoon that came to me and stood up on his back legs, opening his arms as if to preach or beg for a hug, it was still dark. I turned my small LED flash light on and began searching for sleepy dragonflies. I found none. There was dew everywhere all right, but no bugs. This is late September and maybe the morning air still isn’t cold enough to keep insects numb long enough for me to arrive and shoot. I’ll have to investigate further.

But the dew was enough for me to begin my experiment. I setup the tripod as low as it would go and launched into an amazing new world. It was 6:30 AM. I was at it for the next 5 hours. There is no way to properly imagine the « infinitely small » before actually seeing it magnified on the LCD screen. For this alone, Canon’s new Live View function is priceless! Without it, I would have had to crouch down to the ground and attempt to peer through the viewfinder in very awkward positions.

I soon got a hang of it. Focus, for the time being, is achieved by slightly moving the whole camera/tripod assembly back and forth, or tilting the head, mere millimeters at a time. Very difficult but doable. My lens does not have an aperture setting ring - it’s all electronics as with most modern lenses - so if I just remove the lens and reverse it, it remains wide open as it usually is while metering. But I’ve found a neat trick on the internet that works like a charm: I set the aperture on-camera with the lens in its proper position, then before removing it I press and hold the Depth of Field Visualization button. Voila. The diaphragm stays at the preset value. This is invaluable because it allows me to step down my f-stops and gain a little more depth of field.

In the end, the most challenging part of macro photography doesn’t seem to be as technical as it is visual. The problem for me is slowing down enough. I am used to composing my shots while walking around. But in the macro realm of nature, walking around equals to being blind, just as a UFO overflying the Earth would see nothing of our ridiculously selfish yet so passionate lives.

So this morning I would stop somewhere and drop to the ground, and stare for a while, letting my eyes glide over the plants and looking for details and dew drops and interesting light. I got it wrong most of the time, but once setup, the camera would invariably reveal attractive angles and cool textures I had completely missed. Many, many times, while looking at my screen, I felt like I was underwater looking at a coral reef. Other times, I was in space watching strange worlds with liquid planets orbiting yellow suns on a background of green and red nebulae.<