AmplifiedLIFE

An early November Quebec morning on Lac Ste. Pierre. Canada geese, migratingto southern agricultural areas for the winter. They fly in a distinct “V” pattern, where one goose is the leader and its flock follows behind in a v-shape. Canada geese fly south to their non-breeding sites to avoid the cold. They'll stay in their non-breeding sites all winter. They’ll migrate back north to their breeding sites in April, May or Early June When they fly in formation, theycreate their own unique form of teamwork. As each bird flaps its wings, it creates uplift for the bird immediately following. ... Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed. Canada geese can travel1,500 milesin a day if the weather permits. These birds tend to fly around 40 miles per hour during migration, though that can increase up to 70 miles per hour if they catch a strong tailwind. To reduce the effort, geese often fly at night when the air is calmer, or in the day when there's a helpful tailwind; they avoid flying into a headwind that would blow them backward. In addition, they have another energy-saving trick. When the Head Goose gets tired, it rotates back in the wing and another goose flies point. That’s teamwork!

Good morning! Time for a piping hot espresso, courtesy of our vintage Velox Ferrara electric coffee percolator, made primarily of bakelite and aluminum and designed in the 1950s. This one makes a single cup but BOY is it good! Velox has been manufacturing electric coffee makers in its historical Ferrara, Italy location since the 1920s. An espresso machine brews coffee by forcing pressurized water near boiling point through a "puck" of ground coffee and a filter in order to produce a thick, concentrated coffee called espresso. The first machine for making espresso was built and patented in 1905. An espresso machine may also have a steam wand which is used to steam and froth liquids (such as milk) for coffee drinks such as cappuccino and caffe latte. Espresso machines may be steam-driven, piston-driven, pump-driven, or air-pump-driven. Machines may also be manual or automatic. And in case this is your first time hearing about bakelite: Polyoxybenzylmethylenglycolanhydride, better known as Bakelite, was the first plastic made from synthetic components. It was developed in New York in 1907. The creation of a synthetic plastic was revolutionary for its electrical non-conductivity and heat-resistant properties in electrical insulators, radio and telephone casings and such diverse products as kitchenware, jewelry, pipe stems, children's toys, and firearms. The "retro" appeal of old Bakelite products has made them collectible. Bakelite was designated a National Historic Chemical Landmark on November 9, 1993, by the American Chemical Society in recognition of its significance as the world's first synthetic plastic.

My 1980’s Fender Stratocaster, resting by the fire. . Yes, I'm a southpaw 💪🏻😁

Just a day in the life during Christmas holidays in Quebec.

December 1, 2021. One of our first, below zero (Celsius) days here in Quebec. It’s hard to resist walking on this stuff. Much like popping bubble wrap 😊

In northern climates such as here in Quebec, Canada, it is not uncommon for a grassy field to be covered in dew, and then frost on a cold fall morning. Frost typically occurs on cold, clear nights when atmospheric conditions cause objects, including grass, to become colder than the surrounding air. Depending on the conditions, frost can be light and scattered or heavy enough to kill annual plants and cause perennial plants to go dormant. Grass blades move water through them for nourishment, but this moisture can freeze inside the grass ​during a frost. However, a light frost generally doesn't freeze the ground. Frost over several nights can lead to visible signs of damage, depending on the grass species. The dead grass will eventually become thatch that nourishes the soil below as the new seeds germinate and grow.

Take to the highway won't you lend me your name Your way and my way seem to be one and the same Mama don't understand it She wants to know where I've been I'd have to be some kind of natural born fool To wanna pass that way again But I could feel it, oh On a country road Walk on down, walk on down, walk on down Walk on down, walk on down a country road - James Taylor

Autumn leaf color is a phenomenon that affects the normal green leaves of many deciduous trees and shrubs by which they take on, during a few weeks in the autumn season, various shades of yellow, orange, red, purple, and brown. In some areas of Canada and the United States, "leaf peeping" tourism is a major contribution to economic activity. This tourist activity occurs between the beginning of color changes and the onset of leaf fall, usually around September and October in the Northern Hemisphere and April to May in the Southern Hemisphere. A green leaf is green because of the presence of a pigment known as chlorophyll. When abundant in the leaf's cells, as during the growing season, the chlorophyll's green color dominates and masks out the colors of any other pigments that may be present in the leaf. Thus, the leaves of summer are characteristically green. Chlorophyll has a vital function: it captures solar rays and uses the resulting energy in the manufacture of the plant's food – simple sugars which are produced from water and carbon dioxide. These sugars are the basis of the plant's nourishment – the sole source of the carbohydrates needed for growth and development. In their food-manufacturing process, the chlorophylls break down, thus are being continually "used up". During the growing season, however, the plant replenishes the chlorophyll so that the supply remains high and the leaves stay green. As autumn approaches, with daylight hours shortening and temperatures cooling, the veins that carry fluids into and out of the leaf are gradually closed off as a layer of special cork cells forms at the base of each leaf. As this cork layer develops, water and mineral intake into the leaf is reduced, slowly at first, and then more rapidly. During this time, the amount of chlorophyll in the leaf begins to decrease. Often, the veins are still green after the tissues between them have almost completely changed color. Deciduous plants were traditionally believed to shed their leaves in autumn primarily because the high costs involved in their maintenance would outweigh the benefits from photosynthesis during the winter period of low light availability and cold temperatures. Other factors involved include insect predation, water loss, and damage from high winds or snowfall.

Mid-afternoon zoom out time-lapse.

Shot with my GoPro from the balcony of our cottage in Val des Monts, Quebec. Lac Sainte-Pierre, Quebec, Canada. October 28, 2021

Enjoy this early morning moody scene set by the steam rising off the surface of Lac Sainte-Pierre in Quebec, Canada. A misty morning fog conjures a sense of mystery—but why the fog appears isn't so mysterious once you understand what it is and how it forms. It’s a beautiful sight, and one that becomes more common when the weather shifts from warm summer sunrises to crisp, cold autumn mornings. The phenomenon goes by many names, including steam fog, evaporation fog, frost smoke and sea smoke. So what makes it happen? Fog forms when cool air and warm water meet and, more specifically, when the difference between the temperature and the dew point is less than 4° Fahrenheit. Water is heated by the sun and stays warmer than the air during the cool night. When the cold layer of still air settles over the lake, warm water vapor from the lake evaporates, entering the cool air above it. The thin, warm, moist layer of air over the pond then mixes with the cooler air from the land. As it cools, condensation occurs and a fog forms. It looks like steam rising off the water, hence the name 'steam fog.' This happens not only over bodies of water but even over moist surfaces, like dew-covered meadows or even over your own skin if you get sweaty while jogging on a chilly morning. Now, next time you go out for a morning stroll along the edge of a lake or a pond and you see this happening, you can appreciate not only the beauty of it but also the science behind it!

Funny you should ask. Here we are on my back deck in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.

The Canadian Tulip Festival was established to celebrate the historic Royal gift of tulips from the Dutch to Canadians immediately following the Second World War as a symbol of international friendship. The Festival preserves the memorable role of the Canadian troops in the liberation of the Netherlands and Europe, as well as commemorates the birth of Dutch Princess Margriet in Ottawa during World War II—the only royal personage ever born in Canada. The Canadian Tulip Festival has been celebrating the tulip, an international symbol of friendship and peace, since 1953. The first Canadian Tulip Festival was held at the suggestion of world renowned photographer Malak Karsh.

Did you know that the Alaskan coastline is longer than all the other U.S. states combined?! Our Celebrity cruise took us past mountains and streams, sailing alongside the icy beauty of some of the world's most impressive glaciers, from the Hubbard Glacier and the Tracy Arm Fjord.

I spotted an American Goldfinch on my walk today. These bright yellow birds are active and acrobatic. They cling to weeds and seed socks, and sometimes mill about in large numbers at feeders or on the ground beneath them. Goldfinches fly with a bouncy, undulating pattern and often call in flight, drawing attention to themselves. The goldfinch’s main natural habitats are weedy fields and floodplains, where plants such as thistles and asters are common. They’re also found in cultivated areas, roadsides, orchards, and backyards. American Goldfinches can be found at feeders any time of year, but most abundantly during winter.

I took this shot of an enticing sign in Toronto's Pearson International airport. Looking forward to flying once again, without restrictions ...

In the fall, Québec’s landscapes unveil their rich colours. From orange-yellows to blazing reds, nature dons its fineries for our enjoyment. As summer’s frenzied landscapes give way to a completely different type of scenery, we slow our pace to better observe nature’s metamorphosis. We taste the fall’s comforting savours and delight in this new season that, while fleeting, will leave us with lasting memories. The air feels cooler. It’s time to pull on a sweater and savour a comforting hot chocolate. The silence at sunset draws us into our thoughts as we gaze in the distance at a serene lake that reflects the leaves’ heart-warming colours. Walking is the best way to enjoy the fall colours. Seeing the wind twirl leaves in a cheerful dance, smelling the odour of a wood fire and hearing the crackle of leaves under our feet satisfy the senses and the heart. Half of Québec is covered in woodland and the province is dotted with 3 million lakes. More than 200 areas are protected by parks and wildlife reserves. Québec is also dotted with more than 180 major regional and municipal parks. Enjoy the season!

The Dutch - and in fact many Europeans - LOVE their bicycles. In Amsterdam, people own an estimated 881,000 bicycles! From a 2015 article by Renate van der Zee, entitled: How Amsterdam became the bicycle capital of the world: In the 1960s, Dutch cities were increasingly deferring to motorists, with the car seen as the transport of the future. It took the intolerable toll of child traffic deaths – and fierce activism – to turn Amsterdam into the cycling nirvana of today Anyone who has ever tried to make their way through the centre of Amsterdam in a car knows it: the city is owned by cyclists. They hurry in swarms through the streets, unbothered by traffic rules, taking precedence whenever they want, rendering motorists powerless by their sheer numbers. Cyclists rule in Amsterdam and great pains have been taken to accommodate them: the city is equipped with an elaborate network of cycle-paths and lanes, so safe and comfortable that even toddlers and elderly people use bikes as the easiest mode of transport. It’s not only Amsterdam which boasts a network of cycle-paths, of course; you’ll find them in all Dutch cities. The Dutch take this for granted; they even tend to believe these cycle-paths have existed since the beginning of time. But that is certainly not the case. There was a time, in the 1950s and 60s, when cyclists were under severe threat of being expelled from Dutch cities by the growing number of cars. Only thanks to fierce activism and a number of decisive events would Amsterdam succeed in becoming what it is, unquestionably, now: the bicycle capital of the world. The amount of trips made by bicycle in Amsterdam plunged from 80% to 20% between the 1950s and 70s. At the start of the 20th century, bikes far outnumbered cars in Dutch cities and the bicycle was considered a respectable mode of transport for men and women. But when the Dutch economy began to boom in the post-war era, more and more people were able to afford cars, and urban policymakers came to view the car as the travel mode of the future. Entire Amsterdam neighbourhoods were destroyed to make way for motorised traffic. The use of bikes decreased by 6% every year, and the general idea was that bicycles would eventually disappear altogether. The streets no longer belonged to the people who lived there, but to huge traffic flows All that growing traffic took its toll. The number of traffic casualties rose to a peak of 3,300 deaths in 1971. More than 400 children were killed in traffic accidents that year. This staggering loss led to protests by different action groups, the most memorable of which was Stop de Kindermoord (“stop the child murder”). Its first president was the Dutch former MEP, Maartje van Putten. “I was a young mother living in Amsterdam and I witnessed several traffic accidents in my neighbourhood where children got hurt,” van Putten, 63, recalls. “I saw how parts of the city were torn down to make way for roads. I was very worried by the changes that took place in society – it affected our lives. The streets no longer belonged to the people who lived there, but to huge traffic flows. That made me very angry.” In the 1960s Amsterdam was in danger of being given over to the car – many wide new roads were built with little or no cycle provision. In the 1960s planners viewed the car as the travel mode of the future, and swaths of the city were destroyed to make way for motorised traffic. The 1970s were a great time for being angry in Holland: activism and civil disobedience were rampant. Stop de Kindermoord grew rapidly and its members held bicycle demonstrations, occupied accident blackspots, and organised special days during which streets were closed to allow children to play safely: “We put tables outside and held a huge dinner party in our street. And the funny thing was, the police were very helpful.” Van Putten remembers the 70s as a time when Dutch authorities were remarkably accessible: “We simply went to tea with MPs – and they really listened to what we had to say. We cycled with a group of activists and an organ grinder to the house of the prime minister, Joop den Uyl, to sing songs and ask for safer streets for children. We didn’t get beyond the hallway, but he did come out to hear our plea.” We had a great fighting spirit and we knew how to voice our ideas. And in the end, we would get our bicycle lane. Stop de Kindermoord became subsidised by the Dutch government, established its headquarters in a former shop, and went on to develop ideas for safer urban planning – which eventually resulted in the woonerf: a new kind of people-friendly street with speed bumps and bends to force cars to drive very slowly. Nowadays the woonerf has gone out of fashion, but it can still be found in many Dutch cities. Two years after Stop de Kindermoord was established, another group of activists founded the First Only Real Dutch Cyclists’ Union to demand more space for bicycles in the public realm – organising bike rides along dangerous stretches of road, and compiling inventories of the problems encountered by cyclists. An estimated 38% of all trips in Amsterdam are made by bike – compared with 2% in London. “Somehow we managed to strike a chord,” says Tom Godefrooij, 64, who got involved with the Cyclists’ Union as a young man. He remembers noisy mass demonstrations with tricycles and megaphones, and nightly ventures to paint illegal bicycle lanes in streets the union considered dangerous. “First we would be arrested by the police, of course, but then the whole thing would be in the newspapers and municipal politicians would eventually listen. We had a great fighting spirit and we knew how to voice our ideas. And in the end, we would get our bicycle lane. Even in the 70s, you know, there were politicians who understood that the general focus on cars would eventually cause problems.” The activists of Stop de Kindermoord and the Cyclists’ Union were resourceful and undaunted, but there were other forces helping to create a fertile soil for their ideas. The Netherlands – possessing few hills and a mild climate – had a great tradition of cycling to begin with and the bike was never completely marginalised as it was in some other countries. The intolerable number of traffic deaths really was a serious concern for politicians, and there was a nascent awareness of the pollution caused by vehicle emissions. The 1973 oil crisis – when Saudi Arabia and other Arab oil exporters imposed an embargo on the US, Britain, Canada, Japan and the Netherlands for supporting Israel in the Yom Kippur war – quadrupled the price of oil. During a television speech, prime minister Den Uyl urged Dutch citizens to adopt a new lifestyle and get serious about saving energy. The government proclaimed a series of car-free Sundays: intensely quiet weekend days when children played on deserted motorways and people were suddenly reminded of what life was like before the hegemony of the car. People in Amsterdam own an estimated 881,000 bicycles. On one of these car-free Sundays, Maartje van Putten, together with a group of other parents and children, rode her bike through a tunnel to the northern part of Amsterdam, in which no provisions for cyclists had been made. “We didn’t realise that what we did was dangerous, because there were still some cars on the road. Our trip ended at the police station, but we made our point.” Gradually, Dutch politicians became aware of the many advantages of cycling, and their transport policies shifted – maybe the car wasn’t the mode of transport of the future after all. In the 1980s, Dutch towns and cities began introducing measures to make their streets more cycle-friendly. Initially, their aims were far from ambitious; the idea was simply to keep cyclists on their bikes. The Hague and Tilburg were the first to experiment with special cycle routes through the city. “The bicycle paths were bright red and very visible; this was something completely new,” says Godefrooij. “Cyclists would change their routes to use the paths. It certainly helped to keep people on their bikes, but in the end it turned out that one single bicycle route did not lead to an overall increase in cycling.” Subsequently, the city of Delft constructed a whole network of cycle paths and it turned out that this did encourage more people to get on their bikes. One by one, other cities followed suit. Nowadays the Netherlands boasts 22,000 miles of cycle paths. More than a quarter of all trips are made by bicycle, compared with 2% in the UK – and this rises to 38% in Amsterdam and 59% in the university city of Groningen. All major Dutch cities have designated “bicycle civil servants”, tasked to maintain and improve the network. And the popularity of the bike is still growing, thanks partly to the development of electric bicycles. The Cyclists’ Union has long ceased to be a group of random activists; it is now a respectable organisation with 34,000 paying members whose expertise is in worldwide demand. “We have achieved a lot, but we’re facing many new challenges,” says their spokesman, Wim Bot. “Many old cycle paths need to be reconstructed because they do not measure up to our modern standards – some are used by so many people that they are no longer wide enough. We have the problem of parking all those bikes, and we are thinking of new ways to create even more space for cyclists and pedestrians. What our cities really need is a totally new kind of infrastructure. They’re simply not fit for so much car traffic.” “The battle goes on,” says Godefrooij. “The propensity of urban planners to give priority to cars is still persistent. It’s easy to understand: an extra tunnel for cyclists means you have to spend extra money on the project. We’ve come a long way, but we can never lower our guard.”

On our way from the famous Schiphol airport to downtown Amsterdam via a series of tunnels.

Pot of gold? Not this particular time. The rainbow is there, in all its colours. But unlike the treasure of fairytales, this particular rainbow leads back to something as commonplace as a garden sprinkler. Nature paints it anyway.

Pleasure boats cruise up and down the Rideau canal, heading to and from downtown Ottawa on a warm July 22nd afternoon in 2021.

If you've never seen one of these before, you'll get a giggle out of it.

We are in the main theatre of the Celebrity Equinox, cruising through Alaska while periodically attending a spiritual seminar. Fresh air and icebergs are floating by outside while we listen to some otherworldly wisdom for an hour or two before everyone goes exploring for the day. Shot with my GoPro mounted on the stage.

Early December evening storm reflection in a city street puddle.

A lonely, weather-worn wooden park bench, dry and musty, surrounded by decaying autumn leaves devoid of almost all colour. And yet, is this not a thing of melancholy beauty?