Living where we do, it’s easy to take it for granted, and that might seem weird to people who only get to see the Canadian Rockies once in a while. But I’ve talked to other people who live in beautiful places, and they’ve had the same experience.
You still have bills, work issues, family drama, car trouble, and sometimes you forget to look around.
But every so often, the world smacks you right upside the head and reminds you of the stuff you’re not paying attention to.
I took Shonna out for dinner for her birthday last month, and as we left The Stirling Lounge in the Malcolm Hotel to walk to the car, the evening light looked surreal.
There’s a phenomenon around here that we never quite get used to. When the light is right, often when fog or cloud cover is low in the valley but you can still see the peaks, or at certain times of year from certain viewpoints, the mountains look MASSIVE.
Mountains. Aren’t they always massive?
Yes, but sometimes they look twice their size and so unreal that they might as well be CGI or AI. And photos never capture it. You have to be surrounded by the light to see it, and a camera doesn’t do it justice. At least not a photo I know how to take.
I received a very large order of metal prints this week, preparing for the Banff Christmas Market. There were also three dog portrait commissions in there. I recorded some video of unwrapping everything, including closeups of the brand new pieces, but I’ll have to record the voiceover later.
You see, right across the street this week, the town has been jack-hammering concrete and ripping up the ground. Last week, they had to move some utilities first.
It’s a necessary improvement to the street, and it had to be done sometime. Everybody has to deal with construction, I know. But it still made working in my home office with all that very loud noise a challenge.
Fortunately, it’s been a warm fall week, and ridiculously stunning. So when I completed the work that had to be done, I got on the bike and went looking for elk.
Live here long enough, and you get used to seeing them. They’re just part of the landscape, to the point that a lot of locals aren’t surprised or impressed with them anymore.
But I’m a wildlife guy. If I’m biking along a trail and a squirrel starts cursing at me from a tree trunk, I’ll stop and take its picture. That just makes it curse more, like a sailor, which means more pictures. Dude, it’s your own fault. I didn’t even know you were there until you swore at me.
I feel the same way when I see an elk. I just want to take its picture.
Now, you never want to get close to these animals, especially during calving season in the spring or rutting season in the fall. And having lived in this valley for 32 years, I know better than to do something stupid to get a photo. Too many tourists learn that lesson the hard way.
But a bull elk with a full, impressive rack, so proud and sure of himself? You only get to see that at certain times of the year. And that’s what I was after.
The trail system in this town is second to none, and it’s one of my favourite parts of living here.
The Town of Canmore has issues to solve. Name a town that doesn’t. It’s ridiculously expensive to live here. You’d almost faint at some of the grocery prices, and businesses struggle to find staff who can afford to live and work in the community.
It’s a dark joke that people think everybody who lives here is rich. For the record, you’re thinking of those with second homes here, many of whom only live here part-time and complain about the taxes.
But one thing this town has gotten right is its commitment to getting people to walk and bike more and leave their cars at home. Our trail system in and around town? I’d challenge you to find a better one in Canada.
So I went up to Three Sisters by the golf course, down along the Bow River, to Millennium Park, and other places where elk are known to frequent.
For a couple of those days, I didn’t see any. Just lots of evidence they’d been there.
Yes, I’m talking about poop.
But while I wasn’t finding elk, I was still riding the trails around town through some of the most beautiful landscape you’ll see anywhere in the world, in my favourite season to see it.
This is Quarry Lake, on the road up to the Nordic Centre. It’s a local swimming hole in the summer, with a nearby dog park, and just a lovely place to be. Hard to believe it was once a scarred strip and open-pit coal mining operation.
Many of the shots in this post are right off well-worn and paved trails, next to neighbourhoods and the Bow River. You can cut in and out of one stunning postcard after another.
When I finally found a herd of elk on Tuesday morning, it was by accident.
While on the river trail near the old train bridge, I stopped my bike because I noticed a couple of cow elk moving around in the trees below the trail.
I circled around to the neighbourhood on the other side, locked my bike to a sign post beside the local pickleball court, and walked into the trees, carefully, because elk blend in very well.
I stood there for a few minutes and saw an elk lying down about twenty feet away. I hadn’t noticed her until just then. Within a few minutes, giving themselves away by their ear twitches, I realized the whole area was full of elk, most of them lying down in the fall brush.
Unless you were really looking, you couldn’t see them. Then you couldn’t NOT see them.
Fortunately, they were all in front of me, and I was able to back off and watch from a safer distance. But it was a thrill. And it dawned on me, with all these cows, there must be a bull. That’s how this season works. One big bull and his harem.
I eventually spotted him, just munching away on leaves or grass, far enough away that I wasn’t worried. I managed to get the above shot, but it’s unremarkable. Handheld at 300mm, in the shadows. To get the shot I’d really want, I’d have to get too close to be safe.
My last time being charged by an elk was while living in Banff, when I was younger and faster. I don’t need to experience that again.
On Wednesday, I’d already been working since 5:30 a.m. at my desk when the construction noise outside reached peak volume around 9. So I grabbed the camera, got on the bike, and went out again.
This time, I’d just crested the river trail near Millennium Park when I saw a big bull on the other side of the dry tributary of the Bow that only holds water part of the year.
A few cows were heading into the trees, and I managed to get a couple dozen shots of him before he disappeared into the woods after his harem.
I’ve already painted a bull elk, a personal favourite piece called Bugle Boy. I’ve since retired it because it wasn’t a bestseller. From my experience, elk aren’t particularly popular paintings. At least, not the ones I’ve done so far. But maybe someday I’ll paint the one that changes that.
Regardless, I’ll keep chasing the shots.
Because taking the photos and imagining what I might paint has become as much a part of the experience as the artwork itself.
Cheers,
Patrick
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of excursions to gather photo reference. Rather than spread it out over the summer, I decided to group several trips together while the venues were quieter and before school let out.
With all the photos I’ve taken the past few weeks, I have to get them weeded and sorted as soon as possible. If I don’t, they’ll sit in my “Photos to be Sorted” folder for far too long and become one more thing I need to get to.
When I’m sorting photos, the first thing I’m looking for is whether they’re in focus. If they don’t show crisp detail, I usually delete them.
The third thing is, does it make me feel something? If it makes me laugh, or I think it’s cute, sassy, or any number of emotions, that means there’s probably a painting there, or at least the potential.
If I keep every good shot, I’ve just got a folder full of the same kind of head-and-shoulders bald eagle photos taking up space.
So that’s a keeper.
There is one final category of photos I’ll keep, but won’t likely ever use for reference, and that’s the memory of the experience.
I always learn new things about the birds while talking to Colin and his knowledgeable staff. And frankly, they’ve spoiled me with some incredible animal encounters over the years. This trip was no different.
For example, later this week I’m heading out on a three-day road trip to gather more reference. To make that happen, I spent Saturday morning working on a commission, drew a cartoon that afternoon, drew three more cartoons Sunday, I have to finish my month-end invoicing early because I’ll be away Friday, wrote this post, sorted and edited last week’s photos, and prepared my camera and video equipment for the road.
I want to paint a rooster, donkey, pig, sheep, goat, turkey, and other barnyard standards. When I mentioned needing reference photos, people volunteered places they knew about in the area.
I came away with excellent reference for a Highland calf, a stunning rooster, and a very large turkey. That last one will be a challenge to make appealing because, frankly, turkeys aren’t attractive animals. I also got some photos of a couple of spring lambs.
The following day, the weather was still good, and since I was on a roll, I decided to visit another nearby venue that a couple of people at Expo had recommended. 
They’re only open for four hours on weekdays right now, but that proved to be more than enough time to get the photos I needed.
I came home with so many good reference shots. Most often, it’s the photos I wasn’t specifically looking for that later reveal themselves as worthwhile painting subjects. I got plenty of pictures of pigs, goats (and kids), sheep (and lambs), alpacas, llamas, a donkey, and another Highland cow.
Even though it feels like I’m having a hard time keeping my head above water with deadlines right now, I’m glad I made these reference trips a priority this year. Between the 
Add whatever I bring home from this week’s trip, and I should be set for quite a while. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop looking for critters when I get the chance, but when it’s time to start a new painting, I won’t be short on subjects. Of course, I already have several paintings in progress and a commission to finish first, so these new ideas will have to wait their turn.
Last week, I went up to Innisfail to deliver the first print and sticker order of the season to 
Many of these animals were orphaned, injured or unable to survive in the wild and would likely have been euthanized if the park hadn’t taken them in. I’ve also seen firsthand how much Serena and her staff care about them, not as attractions, but as animals they’ve invested years of their lives into caring for.
They talk about making noise on trails, travelling in groups, carrying bear spray and knowing how to use it. They explain proper food storage while camping, why people should stay in their vehicles if they see a bear on the highway, and why a fed bear is a dead bear.
Because she was so close, I only needed my phone camera and I think I got the shots I needed for the painting I have in mind. Honestly, there’s no other bear I want on the cover of that book. There’s something profoundly special about Berkley that I still can’t quite explain, so I keep trying to find and show it when I paint her.
I also got to photograph the new cubs at the park, and some of the reference I captured last week is among the best I’ve ever shot. Watching them climb and tumble around, I already see several possible paintings in those photos.
One aside to this whole experience. I’ve wanted to record more of these trips for 
I’ve got a few more trips planned over the next couple of weeks to gather reference for upcoming paintings. It would be easy to forego these excursions in favour of more time working at my desk, as catching up is still proving frustrating and impossible. But spring is one of the best times for taking pictures. The animals are active, the light is softer, and there are babies everywhere.
If you’d like to see more about how that came together, that original 
I chose the middle giraffe and spent a few hours Saturday morning refining it. More detail. A slight softening and tweak to the expression to bring out more personality.
Another Banff Christmas Market is in the books.
Highland Cow, Snow Queen, Otter, Sire, Kodiak Cub, Raven on White, and Winter Wolf were all popular again this year. Spa Day, one of my personal favourites, seemed to find its audience this year and was more popular than it has ever been. It ended up as my second best-seller after Highland Cow.
After the first weekend, I was disappointed that my latest Snowy Owl painting didn’t seem to resonate, but it was a slow burn. By the end of the market it was in the Top 10 out of the 40 paintings I had on offer, so I’ll gladly take that win.
The week after the 
I’m an introvert, like a lot of artists I know. I’m most comfortable working alone in a quiet place, so after all the noise and interaction, plus an incredibly busy schedule for the past couple of months (when I was already running on fumes), it takes a toll.
Ending the year painting a grizzly bear face will hopefully help me take some first steps toward better perspective. None of us gets out of this alive, and I’m desperate to use my time better.
This past week, Shonna and I headed north to visit her Dad and family. It’s a seven-hour drive from here, and we haven’t been up there in quite some time. We planned these dates awhile ago, and thankfully both of our workloads were a little more manageable right now, with good weather for the trip.
Every time I take the camera out, I learn something new, usually by making a mistake. This time, I left my new DJI Action Pro 5 in the car, not wanting to keep everyone waiting. That was foolish, since this kind of trip is exactly what the camera is designed for. I could have clamped it to the windshield, pressed record, and left it running. Instead, I relied on my phone for short video clips.
None of the shots from the river are good enough for reference, but I never know where inspiration might come from. Seeing wildlife in the wild is always worth it.
Even without the river encounters, we enjoyed some friendly domestic critters. Shonna’s parents’ dog, Jetta, is a classic rural yard dog. Her job is to bark at strangers, but once she warmed up, we were fast friends. I like that her grey matches mine.
Shonna’s brother’s dog, Tess, is a bundle of energy with no slow setting. I’m surprised she sat still long enough for me to take a photo. Go ahead, try to take the puck. I dare you.
But the star of the show was their new kitten, Minnie. Already a people cat, she was affectionate, vocal, and had an intoxicating purr. We joked that they would have to check our bags before we left to be sure she wasn’t coming home with us.
Whenever I photograph dogs or cats, I want to paint them, and Minnie was especially photogenic. I now have some strong reference shots, though with commissions waiting and a list of wildlife paintings underway, I don’t know when I’ll get to them. That is why the idea of ever retiring feels ridiculous. There are too many animals to paint.
On the way home Wednesday, we stopped at the cabin I often rent with friends so I could finally show it to Shonna. I had checked ahead and the owners said we were welcome to drop by between guests. Shonna and the owners have heard plenty about each other, so the introduction was overdue.