George stopped holding his hand in the air. Some say the sixth sense doesn’t exist, but often his ability to sense danger seems to prove otherwise. Dramat, Emanuel, Fargo and James were new Marine recruits. Even though they had been reminded before heading out into the deep jungles and swamps of the south edge of the tropical island, they lead on ahead of George.

Crickets sang in the snappy evening air and in the distance several birds chattered back and forth ominously out of eyes reach. Dramat hearing a toad croak in the water quickly swung around to look sending ripples slowing traveling across the water gently lapping on the shore. Scowling at Dramat for always being the source of tension and drama, George lifted his binoculars to his eye surveying the horizon. The other men could never quite tell if he was going on a hunch of impending terror, or if there was something they missed and George picked up on.

The repetitious thunder of a Blackhawk Helicopters blades rose and thundered over the Western ridge and soon was within eye site framed against the angry clouds above.

The men soon could see the details in the helicopter as it approached. Stranded in the middle of the swamp with no cover the men cowered and hoped not to be seen as it approached. Hanging out of the side of the helicopter was a soldier dressed in dark camouflage with a large gun in hand. It passed just north of the men, collectively the let out a sigh of relief until the chopper dropped into a hard right hand bank and circled directly towards the men dropping napalm as it passed directly overhead.

None of the men were hit by the flaming wrath on the enemy’s first pass, but as it turned around and hovered a quarter mile away the right munitions bay was illuminated by a missile firing. The bomb headed directly for them dropping quickly appearing to lack to speed to target them directly. The men’s hopeful optimism quickly died as the after burner hit and it regained speed. Landing just past them men the bomb exploded with fury in the swamp kicking dirt, mud and water far into the air and throwing anything in it’s way to oblivion.

Dramat by this time had too much, overwhelmed he passed out and fell face first into the mud as the other men were frozen with fear by their impending destruction

Piercing screams broke the Blackhawk’s audio dominance as Harriers flew up the valley low along the swamp and deep canopy. The Blackhawk quickly flew up and out back over the Western ridge and out of site as the men saw the planes dive over the ridge in persuit.

I have dearly missed playing in the mud

Tweet This Post

Back in the days of my youth I don’t think there is a single person who would have predicted I have anything to do with fashion. In the years of elementary school I wore a set of T-shirts almost religiously putting no thought to the fact they really were terribly ugly.

Some Calgarians might be familiar with the annual event where people raise money in sponsorships to run up the fire escape of the Calgary Tower. As with many similar runs, jogs or walks to raise money, all the participants get a free shirt. The front of these shirts, which are infamous in our family, was often headed by the words ‘Go Wild!’ and some graphic showing the tower. The back of the shirt had a plethora of local sponsor’s logos.

For several years I wore one of these shirts (over multiple years of participation) regardless if it fit me properly, was stretched out, not to mention the general ugliness of the shirts. I hope you’ve got a picture in your head now of this little elementary school kid, blonde hair, with a Go Wild shirt awkwardly tucked into his shorts. Does he look like a kid who would grow up to be a photographer shooting fashion?

Could have fooled me too.

Rebecca

Taylor

John

Chelsea

Katie

Tweet This Post

Have you been in the situation where you really should have had certain gear, but didn’t think to have it? Ever have boots which you thought you were waterproofed but weren’t quite, and did so before shooting the After Dark Big Air competition at Mt Washington on the last weekend?

No?

Funny cause that just happened to me.

I got a facebook message from another local photographer about the competition late last week, after some quick arranging of accommodation (thanks Allie and Andrew) and re-arranging of my schedule I hopped on the all-to-early ski bus. Arriving at the hill I was met by; blizzard, overcast, melting snow, long walk up to the jump… sweet

Warm-up in the afternoon was short and not so sweet, windy conditions were keeping the riders to their more tame tricks as the photographers shaded their lenses from blowing snow.

After the riders warmed up I took a break inside to thaw my feet and hopefully dry out a bit, by the time I walked outside to get to the jump before finals the clouds had broken, snow stopped falling as the sun dipped below the horizon.

The rest of the evening provided great weather, even better tunes, and many excited Van Island skiers hopped up on reggae and Okanagan Spring Brewery brews.

Tweet This Post

Peanut butter Jelly, Peanut butter Jelly, Peanut butter Jelly with a Baseball Bat!

For my time traveling the internet which is ever so vast, but not very deep. Here’s to the internet, and the wonderful mindless junk it can provide for all people.

In case you don’t understand, and are about to call up a psychiatrist thinking I’m off my rocker; Click Here.

Tweet This Post