1 week...

It has been 10 days since snowfall and the slopes are hard packed, getting icy. Bliss for those that can carve, hell for those that have no idea. Me, I lie in the middle somewhere. The board will be freshly waxed for the morning for even faster smoother riding. Lets hope it goes the right way. 

After a stack and a mild concussion, balance is an issue. A few off days and a cold that decided to hit just in time for christmas, I got back and have beaten myself into shape again. Day off tomorrow should be full of boarding. 

Christmas, an interesting time of year. A day that is normally spent with your family, and I have sent myself away to the smallest village I could find. With nothing but a free ski bus for transport, being up at 800m has proved a trap. With an Aunty and Uncle in Geneva that wanted me for christmas, I instead worked. 

Mother had sent me away with a gift that was unwrapped at first light. A phone call from the grandparents which I somehow rejected mid sleep and many many from the folks which I could not answer because the emotions were overwhelming. Breakfast was charming, champagne and orange juice flew round the room. Cooking up a storm in the kitchen for our fabulous guests. 

I can't say that cleaning on christmas was ideal, but service for christmas dinner was grand. Although we didn't sit down for christmas dinner and I had no family within arms reach, I managed to spend christmas with five very thankful families that appreciated everything that was done for them. George and Charlotte, the children staying with us, made my day with a self drawn christmas card. Dancing in the kitchen and celebratory beers after service filled the room with laughter. Not the best christmas in the world but probably one I will remember, purely for the fact it was different from my normal. 

The sky was clear, well at about 1200m it was clear on this day of days. Little would you know when lazing about down in the valley, where you can't see 10m in front of you that above you, and it isn't far to the top, is crystal clear skies and deck chairs to laze about on. That is what I did for the latter part of my boxing day. Wishing that I knew results from the Sydney to Hobart but also so thankful for the snow and the ability to ride. 

I received news that night of a friends father. One Mr Arblaster sails that race and sails a boat called, of all things, Georgia. If any of you happen to follow the race or even read the newspaper in good old Aus then you would have heard that Georgia put out a mayday call mid race. All crew were rescued successfully.

There is always a story that comes from the race. A broken keel, a broken mast, ripped sails and lost spinnaker poles. There have been years of trauma and the highest seas that have been seen, lives have been grabbed and amazing rescues have been performed. The people who go out and take part in these events have an understanding. An understanding of nature. You can't beat nature, you never could.

Verchaix

This snow covered village lies at the bottom of the Grand Massif. We sit at around 800m with the summit at 2500m. That is alot of snowboarding to get to the bottom. Surrounded by villages and mountain passes.
Going driving with the snow spade in the boot, just in case. Scraping the car in the early hours of the morning so we see road rather then snow. Putting on all your clothes just to take the rubbish out. This is the life I'm going to be living for the next 5months.
Arriving in Geneva was exciting enough, driving through the night to this tiny village that only has a post office, a pub and a bakery. What more could anyone want?
It has been two days now and the second finally brought the sun and a room with a view.
From the house you look down the valley and across to the Grand Massif.
The primary school next door spirits children in the festive season.
The houses and streets are covered in christmas lights. It is very traditional . I wonder what christmas days boasts?
The slopes open on saturday and first skiing for me is going to happen on wednesday. I will let you know how that goes. Hopefully I will still be in 1 piece.

Salut!

Kiteboarding with God

'(noun): a water sport in which a surfboarder uses the lift and pull of a large kite to move and perform maneuvers.'

The Kiteboarder. 

St.kilda beach is packed with them, summer or wi

nter. I hear LA has quite the water. Anyone like mexico or Barbados? Cause you can certainly board there.

In fact, I'm pretty sure that where ever you go you will be able to find some water to bust a board on. Unless the country is landlocked, then you may encounter a few problems.

Kiteboarding is definitely a sport I would be able to

 get involved in. Then again, the amount of sports I get involved in is going to eventually mean that I am going to have a different sport for every day of the week, month or year. 

Today, sunday, I took the camera across the road. If I had a longer lens I wouldn't have had to do even that. 

The sun was starting to set and what some people call 'The God Effect' was occurring. Perfect opportunity to unleash the new camera. I now wish I had that longer lens. Better shots, more conspicuous, action. But the wind was withdrawing, it often does at sunset, so the boarders were retreating. The fact that the sun was setting had nothing to do with retreating boarders...

There were some beautiful colours and some beautiful bodies. That is why you do a sport like kiteboarding. A gazillion times more fun then any 'gym' workout. 

As I sit at my desk, a good half hour later, the sun is still in the process of waking somebody else up. Although you see more cloud then you do sky, the sky above is and has not been as clear then right now. If I look hard enough, I can see the coastline of portarlington and Indented head, beyond that I think I see Tasmania and then Antartica. Found my longer lens.

Enjoy the beauty of the sea, the sky, the wind, the kite. 

10-20mm

Went on a little cycling adventure today. LIttle is an understatement. Spent 5 hours on my fixed gear bike...haven't riden it properly in six months, let just say, I felt a little uncomfortable and tender.

Took a 10-20mm lens out, got some shots of the GPO. not great shots, but they show the beginnings of bowing. It is not a fisheye lens, but anything that wide is going to bow your straight lines. The next thing is a fisheye...

The D700

The D700...hmmm

Arboriculture

"ar-bor-ist

n

A specialist in the care of woody plants, especially trees" 

Escaping from branch to branch, flying from tree to tree. 'Careful, that bow is over 70 years old, no weight baring please.'

Practicing the act of a monkey. Performing the job of a General Practitioner. Undertaking the role of an Industrial climber. The job of a Tree Arborist.

How many more jobs are there that encompass such a diverse

range of skills?

The crew at the Royal Botanic Gardens of Melbourne understand the demands of Arboriculture. They have a finesse about them as the glide around the tree inspecting the bows and looking for signs of decay or malnourishment. 

The day I photographed the Arborist at the gardens was a typical

day of Melbourne drizzle. With little shadow and highlight definition, I began to concentrate on the movement of the doctor around the

tree. They possess 

the freedom of flying yet the accuracy of a dart to a bullseye. As they swing around the tree, every spot they land in is intentional, there are no mistakes in this business. It can result in the loss of a 70 year old

 bow.

Today they are in the most magnificent tree. The leaf coverage the size a of a

basketball court. As it drizzles, I do no get wet because of the shelter the tree provides. It sits elegantly towards the fence line of the gardens. I spot I have not been before, but intend of revisiting. 

From chaos to calmness

It was one big culture shock as I travelled through a small part of the UK on my journey to Croatia. 

Starting out in Ipswich and lunch with Paul, I travelled into London and had 12 hours to kill before my flight left to Croatia. A flight at 6am from Gatwick airport was going to see me spending the better part of a night there. 

Whilst security kicked up a fuss more then once, I quietly observed the happenings of a 'closed' airport after dark. I wouldn't recommend it, but it was cheaper then a hostel and cab. 

Sitting awake for over 24 hours my flight was called and I managed to make a 'bed' out of three seats and sleep all the way to croatia.

Once arrived, I could not have been in a more opposing world. The warm calmness that Split had to offer was very inviting. This was only the start. 

The Weapon of Choice

The Hasselblad 500

One of the more elegant cameras in our time and more precisely, before our time.

The camera that will never fail. I was lucky enough to have a Grandfather who owned one of these beauties, and he was kind enough to pass this on to me to pursue my photography. The image quality is crisp, the shutter sound is magnificent, the depth is deeper then any ocean.

If you ever have the opportunity to shoot with a Hasselblad, don't say NO!