- Rat-a-tat-tat rings through the Maritime forest. This familiar sound announces the presence of the downy woodpecker, one of Nova Scotia's forest's more handsome residents.
This owl loves to hang out watching the river. Will a small animal wonder down to drink some water? Patients is a virtue. Good things come to those who wait.
I love the fall colors and the lighting in this image. This would be great for the fall theme during Thanksgiving week.
- Little urban dwellers showing off for the artist.
Desperate, driven by the will to survive; this northern wanderer rests. Rabid storms have entombed the arctic tundra hiding her prey deep beneath the snow. The frozen landscape offered her no reprieve.
Ravaged by hunger and pressed by storms she flew nearly a thousand miles southward, toward a land instinct knew existed. A land of plenty, where the ocean's moderating effects free the landscape of ice and snow, offering life and hope. Midst the barrens of the Maritime coast she rests, camouflaged, transfigured into a small boulder, one of the thousands that dot the Peggy's Cove barrens. White rocks rest in a red tide of Labrador tea, and here she finds rest, warmth and food.
- A quiet stroll one May in the woods, enjoying the sounds, sights and scents of spring. Birds singing and fresh buds bursting all around, fiddlehead ferns unfurling. Then a surprise ... a pair of baby rabbits, so tiny and so still they could easily have been passed by. The muted brown of their tassled fur a blend with the surrounding grasses and the telltale white flash marks the forehead of the baby snowshoe hare.
- A quiet stroll one May in the woods, enjoying the sounds, sights and scents of spring. Birds singing and fresh buds bursting all around. Then a surprise ... a baby rabbit, so tiny and so still he could easily have been passed by. The muted brown of his tasselled fur a blend with his surroundings and the telltale white flash marks the forehead of the baby snowshoe hare. Then in a flash, he's off, racing through the fiddleheads and labrador tea.
- Gulls cry overhead as we walk about on the wharf enjoying the smell of salt on the gentle sea breeze. The sound of broken shells crunching under foot mingles with the soft swishing of waves against the nearby boats as they rise and fall on the swells. A fisherman has stowed his gear here, its bright colors contrasting with the browns and greys of weather worn timbers.
- Golden rays dance amongst the beach grass as another day of surfing comes to its sweet end. A day of the joy of riding and bending to nature's power and riding the graceful waves. the taste of salty water still dripping down their faces and muscles aching from pushing to the limits.
- MORNING MISTS part as the guardians of the lake slip silently across the glassy waters. Reflections flash across the mirrored surface in their passing by. Their mournful cry pierces the calm of early dawn just as the sun banishes the mists of night. The loon graces our wilderness lakes with its haunting elegance.
- Splintering the still air with his bugling call, the Guardian stands, ever watchful, ever vigilant. As his breath drifts softly in foggy wisps in the morning's young hours, it seems all is at peace. His herd graces restfully under his watchful gaze. Even so, his keen sense of smell detects intruders. Their footfalls silent and dangerously close, despite the frosty grasses underneath. In an instant he will be fierce and terrible, as he charges to confront them, to the aid of his clan, his mighty rack of antlers more menacing than any sword blade. 6 foot powerful spikes wielded with the full anger of an 800 pound elk bearing down on them ... wolves beware!
