I once worked for a publisher who, too often, commented on a picture I made (with great risk to mind and body), “Well, I guess even a blind pig sometimes finds an acorn.”
Last night I guess I was the pig. We’re camped on the outskirts of the Forillon NP on the tip of the Gaspe Peninsula. Several times we passed this incredible light house, the tallest light on the eastern shore of Canada. I knew it would be a great nightscape image. So, when the sky cleared (so I thought) last night, and after losing a round of Five Crowns, I headed to the light—alone since all of my compatriots thought going to sleep was a better option than standing around in the dark, on a path traveled by unknown creatures. Turns out, when I got to the spot I had scouted earlier in the day, the sea fog had moved in and things were less than gloomy. Any sensible photographer would have left the gear in the car and returned home. However, being the blind pig in search of eats, I persisted.
No stars, as I had hoped, way too contrasty light, and the occasional pickemup truck speeding by on the near highway, all sort of came together.
Witt’s End 