CATHEDRAL IN THE PINES

On Sunday mornings, to the beat of drums, the Scouts and Guides
march from their respective camps -- some walking a short distance,
others walking a couple of miles -- to this open-air chapel on
Wadsworth Lake known as the "Cathedral In The Pines."

Participation in the Eucharistic celebration here is an unusual
and unforgettable experience -- with tall graceful pines which
tower like pillers around the praying congregation, branches high
above spreading out to form a natural protective and shaded
canopy.

I didn't think too much of this open air-chapel when I first saw
it. But then again, my first time at Mass here was in 1967, I was
only 8 years old (my first year at cub camp), and such things just
weren't of much interest to an 8 year old boy -- neither the alter,
nor the trees, nor even having to go to church.

These days, however, even though I'm still not particularly
religious, it's nevertheless hard for me to walk around this place
without feeling a certain sense of reverence and even awe. Perhaps
like the Scout camps themselves, this place also has become woven
into the growing up fabic of my being, a place I find myself
perpetually returning to like some bird who instinctively knows
the destination of his annual migration.

What's interesting in all of this, at least for me, is that
in all my years of coming up north to Kaszuby and to these Scout
camps, I never once crossed the lake and saw the Cathedral In
The Pines at night. And it was almost by accident that I happened
upon it on this one particular evening. And upon seeing the alter
lit up and framed by the more seemingly mysterious dark of night
forest, I just knew I had to photograph this scene -- some subject
matter we choose to photograph and almost force our will on it,
while other subject matter catches our attention on a more
instinctive level and seemingly almost calls to us to be
photographed. This was one of those scene -- the scene itself
almost seemingly saying "go and get your camera" (although in
truth, what's really going on is that we finally catch on to
the wisdom of paying attention to our own inner voice)>

For those asking about the technical aspects, the camera
(on a tripod) was set to a white balance for tungsten light, and the
blue of the trees was the product of walking around and a number of
times triggering my hand-held flash during a long exposure (a regular
flash with no filter, when combined with tungten film -- or in this
case, a digital camera white-balance setting for tungsten light --
produces the resulting blue of the trees you see here.)

With the first few shots, it became apparent soon enough
that I couldn't get what I was after with just one frame --
either the trees were too dark or the alter itself was too
burned out. And so I set upon the idea of making two exposures:
a shorter one with the existing lights to retains some details
in the alter and in the painted image of the Black Madonna, and then
a second longer exposure which afforded me the time to move around
and paint the trees with my flash. Finally, back home, these
two images were blended together in Photoshop so that both the alter
and the trees would be somewhat balanced in terms of exposure.

To the best of my knowledge, I haven't before seen a picture like
this of the "Cathedral In The Pines", although over the years,
many images of this open-air chapel have been made both by me and,
I imagine, those tourist who come from different parts of North
America and Europe to vacation in this cottage country area.
So I am quite pleased with this particular image, and likewise
hope that those who are knowing of this place might also be
of the mind that the familiar landmark has been presented in
a new way.

CJ