Vertical dimensions and shapes provide seminal perspectives. The Bay of Fundy is such a place to feel them. It claims to have the highest tidal range on the planet, on average rising and falling 56 feet [17 meters], twice a day.
While the tides run relatively constant, the power of moving water creates an impermanence to the landscape. The land changes albeit slowly. And of course, we physically change too, though on a timeline far shorter than these “monuments.” These amazing structures will outlast me, which is to say they’ll still deliver an enduring perspective to others who might be standing on the very spots when I took these photos.
It’s not difficult to dislike the brutal cold [7F with -10 windchill]. In spite of that, I find a quality that transcends visual beauty.
The cold makes things hold fast. It’s a natural form of “stop-motion” for inanimate objects. And a few animated ones as well vis-a-vis, birds stoically perched in a tangle of shrubs enduring both the cold and the wind.
For a brief instance—and I mean brief—I’m part of the landscape with camera in hand. The cold forces me to hunker down, to pull tighter the collar of my jacket, the hat on my head, the gloves that now feel powerless to the temperature as my fingers start to numb.
Winter is a beautiful time of year for me.
In a short period of time, a tsunami of products and services have overwhelmed our values to such a point that we’ve conditioned ourselves to expect the next version of something, to be better than the one we already have. But we’re not any happier or better in our day-to-day lives. Not all consumers consume as such. There is a distinction between a collector and an accumulator.
The sheer number of branded products vying for our attention—and our money—is beyond words. Our attention spans are already fractured from our immersion in diversions and distractions. Is it any wonder that marketers are looking for that strategy which helps their brands to stand out, to be readily noticed and purchased, to be the “next best thing?”
So, how do we optimize the value of our brands, which by the way, also includes our personal brand?
During my walkabout with camera in hand, I noticed in a meadow a particular detail that stood out: specs of white in an expanse of green, brown and yellow. If the meadow is a designated market area [DMA], the flora its products and services, then it’s easy to recognize the stand out among all the offerings. The simple, white flowers.
These flowers lack the colorful palette of warm yellows, reds and oranges, which is precisely the point. One color, was enough to make our “product” stand out from the rest of the other flowering plants. If we are to champion some level of emotional ownership for a brand, more is often not always better. In fact, the challenge becomes finding the single most relevant, genuine quality that deserves attention. That quality is a narrative that needs to be told.
That quality doesn’t need to be original [nothing is anymore, really], but must be genuine. The quality is accessible, identifiable, perhaps even an antidote to the distractions that contribute to our sensory overload. Marketing minimalism is the distillation of that particular quality that allows the brand to stand out. In this day and age of “reality-this-or-that,” there is a hunger for something far more genuine, more real, more tangible that removes us from our penchant to consume or accumulate things.
I‘m not one that’s into special photo effects. And many apps can help create textures and blurs and other renditions. In the first image, the wind helped me out.