Spaca Moskalyk | Rural Alberta Photography
by Sidney on July 5, 2013
It’s been a while since I’ve posted some Spaca images. I finally found my way there again for a shoot a while back, but until I share those images, I thought I’d upload another handful from my first time out there in 2012.
I love how light can alter the colour of a structure, especially those with really great texture, such as the Spaca. That’s the great thing about heading out before sunrise … watching the world wake up around you is such an incredible, peaceful time and I’m usually pleasantly surprised at the power of the early morning light.
You can really see how the Spaca, like many structures before her, have taken a beating over time. This is nothing compared to what she is like inside, deep beneath the surface. Since the church’s fate become news, there are now a handful of photos and videos out there showing her structural failure, but in my opinion, these images taken by Ray, are simply some of the best. You really see how bad of shape she was in last year.
When I first heard this church will be saved, the first thing that came to my mind were the words spoken by John Wayne during what would be his final Oscars appearance at the 1979 Academy Awards. As he was describing the similarities between himself and Oscar, “We’re both a little weather beaten, but we’re still here and plan to be around for a whole lot longer.”, I couldn’t help but think about our aging structures on the landscape. This clip of the Duke’s last hurrah still chokes me up 30+ years later and it’s absolutely worth watching, folks.
Whatever the fate of the Spaca Moskalyk ends up being, it’s just important to see an aging structure live to see another day and be a part of our wondrous Alberta prairies landscape.
Before I forget, I also was humbled enough to have one of my images of the Spaca Moskalyk on the cover of the Vegreville Observer for their March 13th, 2013 print issue. Thanks to Michael at the Observer for making this happen!
Keep documenting our aging treasures, folks! Once they disappear from our landscape, our photos are all we have left.
See you in the field!
