As promised, a shift from funny signs and ducks in flight to the winter prairie... and I'll get to the "beauty of nature" soon enough, but first, the bleak side.

I have photographed this old, gutted, abandoned house for a quarter century. It's still standing, but perhaps not for long. I've looked at it close up, but somehow prefer it in context. And that context changes depending on which surrounding items I choose to include or leave out, choice of background, the season itself, the light, and many other factors. For example, a large thicket of low-growing trees nearby provides a nesting place for great horned owls. A different approach to the house would reveal the rich crop and pasture lands behind it. And so on.

An abandoned house, btw, is not always a sign of failure. In some situations a family found it cheaper to build a new house in a better location than to keep the old one going. Some families have been on their land here for four generations. Things change.

Yes, it's bleak, but so it goes in January. Winters here can be severe, summers sublime.

Photographed north of Val Marie, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2025 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

Tags:   landscape winter cold bleak abandoned house farm house ranch house old weathered isolated prairie Val Marie Saskatchewan Canada copyrighted James R. Page 2025

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It's Boxing Day in Canada. Most Canadians probably could not tell you the origins of this holiday, but the best info online suggests it was an English tradition of giving alms to the poor and/or gifts to servants the day after Christmas. Presumably servants had to serve on Christmas Day itself. The next day was their day off, and they were often gifted with boxes... of what? Leftovers? I don't know. Anyway, Boxing Day is recognized in a number of Commonwealth countries, including my own.

In October, near Old Wives Lake, I found this old boxspring in the yard of an abandoned farmhouse. The only connection with Boxing Day is that it rhymes. Boxspring Day. Why not?

I'll get back to my usual nature & wildlife photos in a few days. In the meantime, as we roll through the holiday season, I have a few oddities I want to post. Does art have to be pretty? No. But it does have to be interesting, and it helps if a larger story is implied. I always wonder about the lives of people who lived in a place and then died or moved on. Were their lives joyful? Tragic? Did they have insights, or were they just worn down into numbness by their workload? Perhaps all of the above, and more...

Photographed at Old Wives Lake, near Mossbank, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2024 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

Tags:   boxspring bed springs rust rusty rusted discarded debris garbage trash lost lives panorama pano junk sad mysterious our collective story unknown abandoned homestead yard farm gone lost history Old Wives Lake Mossbank Saskatchewan Canada copyrighted James R. Page 2024

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I thought of calling this image set "Horizons", because each shot contains a horizon placed differently in the frame. I made this minutes after the previous posting of the house (which is in the middle here, viewed from the opposite side).

Memory says I ran around the back purposefully, set up quickly to get the shot. My RAW folder for that day tells me I'm wrong. Eight minutes passed while I got distracted by some piles of barbwire and other junk. Then I turned around, saw the buildings - like three wise men, perfect for the occasion - but there wasn't a virgin in sight. No star, either. Still, the symbolism wasn't lost on me.

And then I scrambled, because the sun was now teetering on the horizon, about to disappear, and I thought a sun star coming through one of the lower window frames would look very cool. At that point I did run to get into position, and it was there for a few seconds - and then gone. Just like that. I missed it.

So why the low horizon? When the sky is filled with storm clouds a low horizon framing often works, may even be obvious, but why frame an empty sky this way? Because it's empty! That's the point. I think that to photograph the prairie well, we have to come to terms with the vastness, the space, the distances between things. I never think about the so-called "rules" of composition; I reject the idea of rules altogether. You have to feel it. You have to be connected. You have to develop a relationship with the land, one that runs deeper than just driving up to a viewpoint, thinking "thirds!" and snapping a photo based on that. Nope. Sorry. That way lies mediocrity. I can't even say I was thinking outside the box here; truthfully, I wasn't thinking at all. But I could feel it.

Of course, not everything I feel translates well; I have a lot of outtakes. Countless. The point being that great photos are seldom the result of an intellectual construct; something else occurs, something deeper. In this case, it manifested as a sun star through a tiny window, surrounded by immense space. And I missed it. All I can do is tell you about it. Too funny!

Photographed in Val Marie, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2023 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

Tags:   landscape dusk twilight three buildings nightfall silhouette sky space distance prairie homestead Val Marie Saskatchewan Canada copyrighted James R. Page 2023

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An empty house on a small rise in the vast prairie. The word "singularity" came to mind just as I began this upload, so I will go with it. I think it characterizes the three shots I want to show you from my late summer, evening drive. Each of them is really about one thing, in this case the little house against the backdrop of a prairie sky.

This wasn't the image I set out to make. I didn't preconceive the composition or point of view or even consider the subject in advance, although I have driven past this house countless times, have walked around it, peered through its broken windows and doorways, and occasionally photographed birds on the property and mammals nearby.

But this image presented itself. When I didn't get the light I had hoped for, casting about for a way to salvage the moment, I looked back over my shoulder and saw what I needed to do. And then in processing I refined the idea a little more, opting for a square crop, keeping the design elements at the bottom fairly symmetrical while allowing chaos to reign at the top.

Frank Zappa said, "Art is making something out of nothing, and selling it." I find that view too cynical; let's drop the "selling it" part. Van Gogh sold exactly one painting in his lifetime. Let's say that art is making something out of nothing - or rather, drawing something from deep inside your own psyche or spirit or inner sanctum, and sharing it with anyone who is willing to look (or listen, or read depending on what kind of art you have made).

If someone wants to buy it, well, that's a bonus. But mostly, we do it because doing it is at the heart of our sense of self and our purpose in life. Never hold back; never talk yourself out of it. Life is too short to play mind games with yourself!

Photographed at Rosefield, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2022 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

Tags:   landscape old house sky square black and white B & W monochrome empty abandoned vast vastness prairie singularity graphic shapes textures contrast Rosefield Saskatchewan Canada copyrighted James R. Page

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