Theres always a story behind a photograph. This particular picture was in the winter just outside of Quebec City. I’m a t-shirt and jeans guy, always, everywhere, in any season, and this day was no exception. Problem is it was around minus fifteen degrees F this particular day. I took this shot, hopped in the pickup, drove a little further and stopped along the side of the road to take another shot of some landscape, then wham, I disappeared seven or so feet into a snow drift, shirt slid up over my face, my hand-stretched out above me, I was stuck there, and all I could hear was my wife laughing her butt off.
About twenty minutes later I managed to wiggle, stretch, claw, my way up out of the hole, and I too was laughing hard and freezing my butt off as well, just in time for an old man to pull over and warn us ‘Americans’ about the snow drifts created by the plow trucks and how deep they can be. Message received!