Over the summer, my adventuring mojo seemed to disappear. I’m not entirely sure where it went. Normally, I’m quite happy to grab my camera, head somewhere new and spend hours wandering around looking for birds, wildlife, or whatever else happens to cross my path. But this summer, getting myself out the door somehow became harder than it should have been. So I decided it was time to stop waiting to feel adventurous again. I packed up my camera, loaded Finnegan into the car, an

The heat, the harsh light, the position of the sun and the simple fact that many animals seem to have the good sense to stay somewhere cool during the hottest parts of the day can make finding something to photograph feel almost impossible. So, rather than wandering farther and farther in search of wildlife, I decided to try something different. I went wildlifing from my balcony. This sounds considerably easier than it was. I am not particularly good at sitting still. I like

Most of us move through our days quickly. We walk familiar paths, drive familiar roads, and pass through parks, shorelines, neighbourhoods, and parking lots without really seeing them. Our minds are often somewhere else—on our to-do lists, our worries, our stress, our grief, or the weight of whatever season of life we happen to be carrying. But if we stop, even briefly, and truly pay attention to where we are, another world begins to appear. It is a world that has been there