The blog posting drought is once again over, this time revitalised by the beautiful cliffs of Aberdeenshire. As I alluded to in a previous post,  I have finally made the move back to the UK, and it is so wonderful to be home again. 

I hope to be travelling extensively as usual. But also taking in a lot of what home has to offer, and what better place to begin than the north east of Scotland and the stunning sea cliffs of Fowlsheugh Nature Reserve. Tucked away on the east coast of Aberdeenshire,  Fowlsheugh is a beautiful unspoiled stretch of coast managed by the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds). In the past I have seen whales, basking sharks, seals and dolphins from these cliffs as well as the millions of birds including Fulmars, Guillemots, Razorbills and Puffins who call the cliffs home in the springtime. Today I was a little early for many birds but I did see a number of Kittiwakes and Fulmars as well as cormorants and a single grey seal searching the rocks at high tide.

There are very few parking spots at the end of the single track road leading to the site, but at this time of year there is no difficulty in finding a spot, even in the best of weather. The area is unspoiled and therefore unprotected, so kids and dogs must be kept on a short leash to ensure you go home with as many in your party as you set out with. In the spring and early summertime the cliffs are a cacophony of cries from a multitude of sea birds, and wildflowers bloom throughout the site, it is a genuinely spectacular sight and certainly one I would recommend to anyone visiting this area. 

Blog posts will once again become more frequent now we are settling in and I hope to bring you more of Scotland very soon. 

Regular readers will know of my ongoing love affair with the prairies. The historic vast wilderness of sweeping grasses now mostly turned to farmland still maintains that wonderful wide open expanse. It is the expanse that draws me, as an Englishman such vast open spaces are unequalled in my home country and it is almost impossible to comprehend that these spaces are as large as my entire home country. 

Yet within this seemingly infinite emptiness, masses of life exists. Colonies of ground squirrels and prairie dogs, thousands upon thousands of eagles, hawks, falcons, and owls hunting overhead day and night. Millions of birds in transit to and from the arctic as the seasons turn.  Coyotes and Foxes fighting for real estate close to huge water sources teaming with fish. There are elk, moose, pronghorns, deer and bears patrolling endlessly. Badgers, snakes, and rodents too numerous to mention, it is a stunning wildlife paradise that I will miss very much. 

One of the great benefits of living within this wonderful wildlife arena, is that all of these beautiful creatures pass by the house with regularity, and just occasionally stop in long enough for an image as this stunning prairie falcon did very recently.  

Do you ever get those days when you just aren't 'feeling' it, when the images you think of making don't seem worth the effort and you move on without making anything, I had that kind of a day today.  Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed being out there hunting, after all that's  why we do this, the thrill of the hunt and the trophy image to come. 

So, after over 300 km (190 miles) of roaming some of the most beautiful, scenic, mountainous areas in Canada I finally found a snow blown mountain top with light breaking through to its summit for todays image. I did ultimately make a number of shots but I couldn't help but think they were all a little bit 'Meh'. 

I have no doubt that the reason was entirely my state of mind, a frustrating morning and upcoming major life disruption combined to distract me throughout the day. I simply wasn't on my game and sometimes that's just how it is.

​So, my image today might well be a reflection of my mood,  the storm clouds are passing and I see that glimpse of wonderful light, and that is how it always goes. We all go through times when life invades our thoughts to such an extent that we just can't see the images around us, in my case the changes are very positive, but disruptive nonetheless.  

The very last of the stunning autumn colours have now died back to brown all across Kananaskis. Before they did I made a hike up to the Rae glacier in the Elbow Valley. It is a wonderful hike past a crystal clear lake through forest and up boulder fields to a terminal moraine and the glacier beyond. 

It is almost always windy, in fact very windy, as the topography funnels air up through the valley, across the boulder field and away over the mountain top. This day was no different and I struggled to hold the camera steady enough to make images but the view down the boulder field is too good to ignore. 

So, below is an image from my last autumn hike in this wonderful place, in a few weeks the road to highwood pass will be closed for the winter, cutting off access to this location until June 2022, I hope to make one more trip out here before it does. 

This week, for the first time in quite a while, I stood in the rear garden of my home in Canada in anticipation of an approaching solar storm, and it promised to be a good one, however, very often the promised aurora can fall flat or not show at all, but as you can see in the image below, not this evening.   

This evening as waves of electrified gases raced through space on the solar wind, some of that energy was captured by earths magnetic shield and pulled down magnetic field lines at the poles. Once funnelled into the polar regions these charged particles excite oxygen and nitrogen to produce the incredible phenomena that fills our night skies with otherworldly illumination. 

The most familiar green light comes from oxygen between 100 to 300 km above the earth, pink and dark red is produced by nitrogen molecules at around 100 km.  Very bright red auroras come from oxygen at altitudes above 300 km and the blue and purple come from hydrogen and helium though these are much easier for the camera to catch than for the eye to see. 

Monday evening was a stunning aurora, bringing to life the usually invisible magnetic field lines with vivid greens, reds and purples that encircled the city of Cochrane below. As always when watching the aurora I thought of those times years ago, when I dreamed of seeing it without ever daring to hope I actually would.  I crawled into bed in the early hours, freezing cold and wonderfully happy to have been able to stand beneath such an awe inspiring sight once more.

While shooting the stunning larch trees at Highwood Pass earlier this week, I found myself repeatedly having to wait prolonged periods for the light to break through the snow squalls overhead. So for some time I just huddled into the boulders keeping  out of the cold wind.

Maybe it was easier to sit and wait after the hike in and that appealed to my lazy nature, I don't know, but I suddenly realised there was more to see all around me beside the wonderful larch valley. I watched the light as it crossed the mountains filling the shadows and darting in and out of the deepest crevices, cloud shadows have always been a favourite of mine as they chase across undulating ground, it turns out that light splashes are just as interesting and equally rewarding.

I picked up the telephoto lens and began an often frustrating game of 'Predict the path of the light', what might seem a straightforward task turned out to be both difficult and entertaining. I confess I made a number of entirely useless images, but one shot capturing the corner of Highwood Ridge made the game worthwhile. The dramatically sheared rock face has captured various peaks of falling rock over time that now appears as a small "range" clinging to the fractured grey wall and, after only four attempts, I managed to capture the light splash in just the right place. 

I still need to remind myself that a long telephoto lens is incredibly valuable when chasing mountain landscapes, even if I really don't fancy hiking miles with it.  

It has been 7 months since I posted from Canada, simply because I haven't been here at all. You can see my last post below was made from my home in the UK where I have been for almost 9 months. The unexpected hiatus was brought about by the continuing Covid 19 saga allowing a prolonged stay in the UK using the 'work from home' mandate. 

I returned to Canada just a couple of weeks ago showing unintentionally perfect timing for the autumn displays in Kananaskis. I climbed a few hills and made a few hikes in an effort to regain some mountain fitness and to remind myself of the effects of altitude, something we sea level dwellers don't normally have to deal with. 

Once I knew the larch were changing I made my way to the car park at Highwood Pass and hiked up to the boulder field trapped between Mt Pocaterra and Mt Tyrwhitt. I love this location for an autumn hike because of the stark contrast between the bare rock and the autumnal foliage always makes for beautiful images. There are many shots to be made in this relatively small area on and around the boulder field, from individual larch trees right through to a full panoramic landscape that you can see below. 

So, if you're chasing autumn colours in Kananaskis, make your way to Highwood Pass, but don't follow the masses up Pocaterra Ridge, instead head up the boulder field and get a new perspective.