2107_0262 Living Sky
Ever since the 2018 storm that dropped giant hail and destroyed my roof - along with every roof in the village - I get slightly uneasy when the sky takes on ominous proportions. You never know what it might unleash. Our license plates read "Land Of Living Skies", and they got that right.
Last summer this storm front found us. I saw it approaching and drove to a local hilltop about 5 km north of town to catch the great, sweeping, swirling, turbulent, ominous, threatening beauty passing overhead. It's difficult not to feel vulnerable when you are the tallest thing for miles around and dark clouds are beginning to crackle with electrical energy.
In this frame, the front is moving right to left, pushing out the last remnants of a sunny morning and bringing the only rain we would receive in July. You can see Hwy 4 at the bottom, and in the distance, just below the horizon, those little white things are the houses of Val Marie. One of them is mine. With the sky growling and rumbling above, this was the last shot I made before racing for home.
An hour later, the storm had passed and the sun reappeared. The calm, blue sky looked like it had always been calm and blue.
Photographed near Val Marie, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2021 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
2107_0262 Living Sky
Ever since the 2018 storm that dropped giant hail and destroyed my roof - along with every roof in the village - I get slightly uneasy when the sky takes on ominous proportions. You never know what it might unleash. Our license plates read "Land Of Living Skies", and they got that right.
Last summer this storm front found us. I saw it approaching and drove to a local hilltop about 5 km north of town to catch the great, sweeping, swirling, turbulent, ominous, threatening beauty passing overhead. It's difficult not to feel vulnerable when you are the tallest thing for miles around and dark clouds are beginning to crackle with electrical energy.
In this frame, the front is moving right to left, pushing out the last remnants of a sunny morning and bringing the only rain we would receive in July. You can see Hwy 4 at the bottom, and in the distance, just below the horizon, those little white things are the houses of Val Marie. One of them is mine. With the sky growling and rumbling above, this was the last shot I made before racing for home.
An hour later, the storm had passed and the sun reappeared. The calm, blue sky looked like it had always been calm and blue.
Photographed near Val Marie, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2021 James R. Page - all rights reserved.