The contrast between winter and summer gets quite dramatic when you get closer to the ground. People don’t look like ants anymore.

During a flight I was sitting—perhaps hiding—in the back of a Jardins de Métis pick-up truck. Mavic is somewhat pretentious and likes calling attention to itself with its characteristic noises, but I didn’t want others to know I was the pilot because I felt I was invading their privacy. Lying down on the beach half-naked is an intimate endeavor after all. The drone was up capturing photos for a transect and the wait felt longer than usual. I thought about the origin of drones as tools in military surveillance; being the invader had never felt more vivid.