Front Cover, Stoer Head Lighthouse ~ A single-track road climbs toward a whitewashed lighthouse in Scotland, the sun setting in gold beneath a burning sky. The frame that named the whole project.
"A single-track road climbs a green headland toward the whitewashed Stoer Head Lighthouse, a dry-stone wall running beside it. On the left the sun sets in gold on the horizon; above, a great bank of cloud catches the last of the light, while the sky to the right is already deep evening blue. The light is doing three things at once — dying in the west, burning in the clouds, and waiting in the lantern room — and the road leads straight into all of it. It is the frame that named the whole calendar."
The rest of the story…
"The lighthouse was our Airbnb — arranged, like the whole trip, by my best friend Ed Farquharson. Ed and I have been friends for almost forty-five years; he planned the entire Scotland trip with my photography in mind, and he was my chauffeur, my guide, and my travel mate from start to finish. My hero. We stayed at Stoer Head for three nights. Scotland's weather is famous for constantly changing — the way the Scots describe it, if you don't like the weather, stick around for fifteen minutes, and you'll have a different season. Boy, that was always the case here. One minute it was raining, the wind coming in like a storm at a right angle; the next, the sun was shining. The photographer in me loves those changes—change means new opportunities, new light, and a whole new feel. I remember one day, I went out five, maybe even six times, each for a new photo opportunity that presented itself. I’d sit with Ed and chat, then Mother Nature would knock on the window and invite me out to play because she had something new to show off. This cover was one of her invitations."
January
“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer." — ALBERT CAMUS
IJANUARY - Invincible Summer
Location: Madawaska Valley, Algonquin Country, Ontario
Description: Morning fog hangs over a spruce forest in the Madawaska Valley as the rising sun burns through the treetops. Layer upon layer of pines fade into the mist — the nearest dark and sharply drawn, the farthest barely ghosts — while the light gathers strength behind them. Photographed at dawn on October 5, 2024.
The rest of the story: "I love waking the sun up — even on holidays. I return to several locations in Algonquin for my landscapes; they are like a magnet. But I am always on the lookout for something else. That morning, I rushed to catch the sunrise in the mist at Lake of Two Rivers. The mist was thick and promised wonderful photography fodder. I made it there; eventually, the road into the park was just as inspiring as the destination. It confirmed my lifelong quest and mantra once again: life isn't the destination — it is all about enjoying, and being in, the journey."
And a quiet pleasure in this: the "almost made it" pictures at the end of your blog are the Lake of Two Rivers canoes — the very frame we spent an evening admiring in October. January's fog and those canoes are the same trip's two gifts: the destination and the road that outshone it.
February
"No man ever steps in the same river twice." — HERACLITUS
FEBRUARY — Five Thousand Years
Location: The Nile at Luxor, Egypt
Description: Golden hour on the Nile. An older boatman in a grey-blue galabeya and white turban stands in the bow of his felucca, working his pole against the riverbed, while three more feluccas drift under sail behind him and the Luxor waterfront dissolves into haze. He is the only human face in the calendar — a man doing the same work, on the same river, that boatmen have done here for five thousand years. Photographed on October 12, 2025.
The rest of the story: "We were out on a felucca for a sunset sail from our home base in the Valley of the Kings. The river was a beehive of activity; indeed, it is the lifeblood of Egypt. The river is as busy as any street in Cairo, without the ever-present honking: hundreds of cruise ships, from large and fancy to small feluccas, ply the Nile. There were photographs everywhere I looked. This is one of my favourites in Egypt."
"As busy as any street in Cairo, without the ever-present honking" — anyone who has stood in Cairo traffic will smile at that.
March
"Adventure is worthwhile in itself." — AMELIA EARHART
MARCH — Seven Balloons Over Luxor
Location: West Bank, Luxor, Egypt
Description: Dawn over the West Bank. Seven hot-air balloons drift above the green fields, palms and canal paths of the valley, the Theban hills hazy behind them and one last balloon still inflating below. The balloons rise before the heat, over farmland that has fed Egypt for as long as the river has — adventure, floating quietly over antiquity. Photographed on October 13, 2025.
The rest of the story: "If you can't join them, do the next best thing. We took this photograph from the rooftop of our hotel, the New Memnon Hotel. Our host, Sayed, told us we could get great shots of the balloons taking flight from his rooftop—he was so right. I loved being up in the balloon, but not everyone does. So if you want to sleep in an hour and a half longer and avoid the flight, this is as good as it gets."
April
"Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly." — LANGSTON HUGHES
APRIL — Worth Being Late For
Location: White Rock, British Columbia
Description: Two bald eagles meet on the shore at White Rock. One is touching down, wings spread to their full span; the other stands its ground on the wet sand, wings half-raised — a negotiation conducted entirely in body language, doubled in the shallow water. Photographed on April 29, 2026.
The rest of the story: "In a world where time is so important, being on the lookout for the next photo flies in the face of that theory. You know you are doing what you love when you realize that you've been doing something for three hours, and it is still okay. This image was one of those days. I had an incredible outing photographing birds and fishermen at White Rock's famous pier. I realized that I had lost all track of time and needed to get back to Donna, who was likely waiting for her breakfast to start her day. The only problem: I saw the eagles on the nearby shore. What else could I do but be even later with breakfast? I had April's calendar shot to capture — the later breakfast will be worth it."
May
"The mountains are calling and I must go." — JOHN MUIR
MAY — Shotgun
Location: Pemberton, British Columbia
Description: First light on the road through the Pemberton valley: mist in the trees, blue ridges stacked one behind the other toward a snow-capped peak, and a single car travelling into the day. It is the calendar's one true road picture — the journey itself, caught at the moment the mountains start calling.
The rest of the story: "I love driving in the mountains — every bend in the road has so much more to offer the driver. The only issue is, when I am on those roads, I tend to get distracted. So as much as I enjoy the drive, when I have a photography mission in mind, I prefer my people drive me around. I have a stable full of willing volunteers, and I have no problem giving up the control."
June
"Mountains are the beginning and the end of all natural scenery." — JOHN RUSKIN
JUNE — Keep Looking
Location: Exshaw, Alberta
Description: A snow-capped range stands in a lake so still it doubles it — peaks, treeline and a sky full of morning cloud, all of it held in the water below. Look closely, and there is a small moon sitting in the saddle between the summits. Photographed at 6:49 on a May morning, 2026, when the wind died completely, and the surface went glass-smooth.
The rest of the story: "Don't just stop — keep looking. This case finds me exploring my surroundings; I call it waking up the sun. I've been to this place a couple of times before, but the circumstances never worked quite like this. I was on a mission to capture mountain reflections on the smoothest surface possible. That morning, I drove by a series of ponds —the first one simply didn't do it for me; the angle and the water weren’t cooperating. What's a photographer to do? Keep looking — if the road goes on, so must you. I didn't have a destination in mind; I just felt pulled to keep going. I could have stayed in that spot not for two or three hours, but for days. It was pure magic: the wind died right down, and I had my coveted reflection."
July
"What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well." — ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPÉRY
JULY — Some Things Don't Change
Location: Elephantine Island, Aswan, Egypt
Description: The simplest composition in the calendar: a small felucca with a worn, two-tone sail, dwarfed by a monumental diagonal of sand where the desert meets the Nile at Elephantine Island. Water, sail and dune — nothing else. The boat is small against it all, which is exactly the point. Photographed on October 16, 2025.
The rest of the story: "We were on our way to visit a Nubian village by boat; the sun was setting, and we were passing one felucca after another. It made me think how these are the perfect boats for the application—the wind pushes them upriver, and the current carries them the other way, just as it has for 5,000 years. As a photographer, it was another way to appreciate that while the river is never the same, some things don't change. For me, there is always a picture — and I know I am in the zone when everywhere I look, there is a picture, even if it resembles the same thing for 5,000 years."
August
"The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it." — J.M. BARRIE
AUGUST — As If on Cue
Location: Exshaw, Alberta
Description: A Canada goose at the one instant flying becomes landing — wings cupped, feet reaching for the water, spray just beginning to trail — with a perfect second goose mirrored in the glass beneath it. The set's only true action frame, caught on the same Exshaw lake as June's mirror, later that same morning. Photographed on May 7, 2026.
The rest of the story: "Back at the ponds outside Banff. In one of those special moments — if you ask for it, the universe will deliver. I am always on the lookout for birds landing on water: loons, swans, and yes, even Canada geese. I knew this was a very special morning, where the lighting would be perfect. I heard some geese announcing their arrival and readied myself. I had no idea where they were — I heard them. Then, in the distant background, a group of three Canada geese came into focus. One by one, they got closer, and lo and behold, they landed just in front of me, as if on cue — the answer to my prayer."
September
"The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever." — JACQUES COUSTEAU
SEPTEMBER — The Picture I Gave Away
Location: Cullen, Scotland
Description: Evening on Cullen beach: three figures walking five dogs along the wet sand, the whole party doubled in long reflections. The calendar's one true silhouette page — strangers rendered timeless, just people and dogs and the sea doing what it has always done. Photographed on September 13, 2026.
The rest of the story: "When Ed suggested we could spend some of the time in Scotland in his hometown of Cullen, I was very excited — I knew it would provide numerous opportunities. Once again, I went out early and late, the beauty of having a home base and a travelling companion who knew why I was there—to indulge my favourite passion. Capturing the moment. Quite often, when I see a perfect picture, I do my best to share it. In this case, I waited until they got closer and explained what I had done—taken their picture —simply because it was the perfect opportunity. I obtained their email address and, of course, shared it."
October
"Happiness is a warm puppy." — CHARLES M. SCHULZ
OCTOBER — Shiloh's Road
Location: Dwight, Ontario
Description: A golden Labrador stands in the middle of a quiet cottage road near Dwight, facing the camera, holding a stick far too big for her and entirely unwilling to discuss it. Behind her, the autumn woods close in on both sides. She is not a model found on the road — the road is hers. Photographed on September 28, 2026.
The rest of the story: "Meet Shiloh, my four-legged daughter. She is pictured here at what is probably my favourite photo spot — the last bit of road before we get to our cottage. It is also part of our morning, afternoon and evening walk. In almost forty years of walking this road, I always find a new image to capture; it is an amazing exercise in seeing, not just looking. I probably have thousands of images on this road. There is always something special. Shiloh has taught me that — every walk is special and full of opportunities. I hope you never tire of the special things in life: pretend you're a dog, and savour every moment. They are all precious, no matter how many times you travel that way."
November
"The first fall of snow is not only an event, but it is also a magical event." — J.B. PRIESTLEY
NOVEMBER — Sixty-Two Years
Location: Near Dorset, Ontario — Algonquin country
Description: The calendar's only close-up: bracken fronds gone to amber, dusted with the season's first snow and backlit until they glow — autumn and winter shaking hands in a single frame. Photographed near Dorset on October 17, 2026, in the Algonquin country I’ve visited for sixty-two years.
The rest of the story: "We're back in Algonquin — back to the same area we camped in 1964. I don't take many trips into the park when I miss coming here. It reminds me of camping with my father. Only slightly different: in Egypt, when we went camping, we were on a beach at the edge of the Red Sea, where, as far as one could see, there were no trees. A couple of months after coming to Canada, we came camping here. As a ten-year-old, I couldn't fathom who had the time to plant all these trees. I have been visiting these trees and lakes for sixty-two years. I have come here every month of the year. I even honeymooned here — just to feed the mosquitoes and black flies. It is still magical. My favourite time, though? The fall, when the colours are at their peak. Add a dusting of the first snowfall, and it is magical."
December
"What greater gift than the love of a cat?" — CHARLES DICKENS
DECEMBER — Crusty, but Lovable
Location: Home — Christmas Day
Description: A tortoiseshell cat in a flopped Santa hat, a gold bell resting on her nose and her tongue out, wearing the festive season the way only a cat can — with total commitment and zero dignity. Photographed at home on Christmas Day, 2009; the oldest frame in the calendar by fifteen years, and the one that closes the year.
The rest of the story: "Meet Emma. We always tried to capture our pets' essence in pictures. I will challenge anyone who says pets don’t have human traits—I am convinced they do. Emma was crusty, but lovable at the same time. Here, she showed just how much she enjoyed the Christmas festivities."
The connections above:
How the thirteen connect
Light is the real subject. Not one frame is "about" its scenery. January is light burning through; the cover is light dying and gathering at once; June is light doubled; February is light gilding work. The places change monthly; the quarry never does.
The journey is the structure. Four road pictures — cover, January, May, October — and your mantra, stated in January, is quietly obeyed all year: the passenger seat in May, "if the road goes on, so must you" in June, forty years of one road in October.
The months talk to each other. February's Heraclitus ("never the same river") is answered by July ("some things don't change"). June and August are the same morning — mirror at 6:49, geese at 9:10. Cover and September are the same trip and the same man: Ed's Scotland.
Reflections are the quiet architecture. Four reflection frames, each a different kind — landscape, action, silhouette, wildlife — so the device never repeats its feeling.
Egypt is a triptych (river, valley, desert — man, sky, sand) holding deep time: five thousand years of feluccas against November's sixty-two years of Algonquin.
Faces are rationed, so they land. One human face in thirteen frames. One dog. One cat.
The world tour comes home. 2009–2026, four countries — and the final third narrows to Dwight, Dorset, and home for Christmas.
The Almosts
My pick for the showcase name. Short, warm, and it honours the frames instead of pitying them. Strong alternate: Almost Made It — my phrase, and it has a built-in opener, because the canoes at Lake of Two Rivers are literally the "almost made it" pictures from the end of the blog: the destination January's fog beat. The roster writes itself: the canoes, the snow pines, the face-to-face eagles, the snow road, the Cullen truck, the Madawaska bridge, the dusk felucca, the Squamish canopy.
