The hoarfrost was perched beautifully on the trees the other day as Tom and I drove to Red Deer. Everything was crystalline and precious in the delicate cold of the encroaching winter. We were sent to film a construction site. As usual, we set about finding the beauty in its quotidian brutality. This is not hard for us. We see the beauty of collective pride and skill, of unwashed work clothes and soiled hands. We see the careful tragedy in the way the low sun pours through the large bay doors and is held in the air by all of the particulates collectively taking years off the workers’ lives. This is not hard.