For a while now I’ve wondered just how necessary it is for me to be on campus. I live about five minutes’ walking distance away; when I bike to work, it takes about as long to lock up my bike and walk to my office as it does for me to get to the University.
It was clear and reasonably warm last night, and there was a reasonable chance of getting some aurora Borealis, so I headed to my usual spot about fifteen minutes out of town. I got my tripod set up, and retired to the warmth of the car—the temperature was only ‑10°C or so, but the windchill was significant, a south wind howling along at what felt like about 40–50 km/h—and listened to music for a while.
After about ten or fifteen minutes, I noticed that I couldn’t see the little red light on my camera anymore. I briefly wondered if maybe the battery had died, but then I realized that I also couldn’t see the thin dark lines of the tripod.
Sure enough, the wind had tipped it over into the snow. See the photo below, which is the ten-second window when it actually fell.
I cleaned the lens off as best I could, then packed it all up and headed home, where I gave the lens a more thorough cleaning and then set it aside to dry. This morning it looks OK, so I think I got away lucky.
I’m working away on my library-full-of-self-erasing books, and I have a novel to finish writing, but I’ve had an idea and I want to pursue it soon. (Actually, it’s not a new idea; it’s a re-use of a concept from one of my nanowrimo projects.)
“The Slow-Motion Apocalypse” is a “day in the life” portrait of an aging wizard who happens to be all that’s standing in the way of a nuclear blast obliterating part of Manhattan.
A couple nights ago we went to see Steven Page in concert at the Westman Centennial Auditorium. It’s been a while; he hasn’t been to Brandon in twenty-five years. He was on tour with Craig Northey of The Odds and Kevin Fox, a cellist.
The show was amazing. I confess, I didn’t know much of Page’s newer stuff, but what I heard I liked. We ended up buying a couple CDs during the intermission, so I look forward to hearing more of his recent work.