OUR CATEGORY : Ian LeTourneau


In the newly fallen snow, crows scatter at the approach of cars, uncovering the carcass of a deer, the twin curves of its ribcage exposed like cupped hands around a match, except there is no flame in the white arch, pale white with a few stringy streaks of red. Is this Actaeon’s fate? To finally […]

Airport Parking Lot

Between the painted yellow lines, the cars and trucks and jeeps wait. Lined-up, orderly. But there is a strange equilibrium in the continuous movement: arrivals displacing departures. Like the slow migration of workers across the country, but in that case the equilibrium is stranger, not like equilibrium at all. They say that you will get […]

Elegy for the Falling Grain Elevator, Boyle, Alberta

What first caught my eye: the colour was off – grey, which once was green. Next came the thud of the wrecking ball slamming into its side. Elsewhere, hunks of concrete hung from steel rods, bent in a craze of angles, like misshapen ornaments. A foreman circles in a white pick-up, surveying the demolition, like […]


We may not have noticed in the day’s blur, ten hours of hiking, looking up mostly, vistas of blue. We may not have noticed if it weren’t for this simple picture, taken by a friend, who happened to stop, and because some happenstance thing like light struck him, snapped it. Perhaps only ten square feet […]

Pump Jacks

The field was probably a flank of wheat or flax until the replication of pump jacks began. In eerie formations, they infinitely regress into the folds of prairie, black and red mosquitoes, practicing their mechanized manoeuvres. In the momentary hesitation of the cog before the jack’s proboscis dips down, and again down, into the earth, […]