The pendulum season

We are in the pendulum season – where it is spring one day and winter the next, in which ever direction the pendulum settles. We’ve enjoyed a false spring of moderate temperatures where everyone had a smile on their face. Then quickly winter came again, with it’s surprise snow, cold winds, and freezing temperatures. The other morning we woke to a fresh coating of two inches of snow. It had rained before turning to snow, allowing the wet snow to collect on the branches and trees.

It’s a slow and unreliable process to change from winter to spring, and all we can do is swing with the pendulum. We keep winter coats, hats and boots handy, along with a light spring jacket. I have seen some open water, especially in the creeks where there’s a current flowing. And with that we’ve had mallards and swans that have come back into the area.

Eventually the pendulum will swing all the way forward to spring and we will put our cold and snow behind us. We’ll look to greening grass and leaves on the trees – it can’t be much further ahead!

Mid-winter, and newer images

We have reached mid-winter. We had a string of sub-zero temperatures in mid-January, bottoming out at -32 degrees. Those were the days to hunker down inside, keep warm, and be thankful for modern conveniences and warm clothes.

We’ve also had a string of mild days, some with sunshine and some with gray skies. If the sun is out, the snow will compact or even melt in places. The roads become sloppy, then often freeze overnight as the temperatures drop. And when we have sunshine it seems our spirits lift – there’s the promise of spring and its warming sun. People, including myself, react to the prospect of spring with smiles and hope. Hope – something we’re all looking for this year in particular, in this part of the country (and elsewhere too). To me that hope is found in the setting sun each day, and the promise of its rise the following morning. The clouds and sun can give a symphony of colors, each one different as they sweep across the sky.

I’ve added a new page to my website that has some of my newer images. You can find it as a listing in the top menu of my website, or as a drop-down choice. As I look at this collection I see the hope and light that I just spoke of in the paragraph above. A light that brightens or softens, that reflects or shapes. I hope you’ll enjoy the 16 images on the page and appreciate the hope that abides in each season and day.

Edges

These have been a difficult and tough few weeks in Minnesota and Wisconsin. People are on edge. Some are hiding in fear and some are stepping out and forward. For the 20 years I have lived in Minnesota, I’ve found the people to be welcoming and caring. They’re happy to help push you out of a snow bank, recognizing that everyone has been in that situation before. When the temperatures dip to 20 below zero, you check on your neighbor to be sure they’re warm and safe. It’s what you do for your neighbors. And that’s what Minnesotans are doing now – standing up for their neighbors.

It’s been a challenge to concentrate and center my mind. One of the best ways for me to do that is to be surrounded by nature – whether it’s outside or inside with greenery and flowers. So I took myself to Como Park and spent an hour photographing at the McNeely Conservatory. The sunken garden was filled with spring flowers and colors, all of which were welcome and inviting on a cold winter’s morning. But I walked into another room at the conservatory and found three cactus in a corner. Their spikes were long and looked sharp and menacing. I immediately thought of the environment in the Twin Cities where there are menacing and sharp forces roaming the streets, schools, and businesses. And yet behind the cactus in the corner was a lovely soft kalanchoe plant covered with pink and red blossoms. As I focused my camera and framed the image, the kalanchoe colors seemed to soften the cactus and its sharp edges. Two plants side by side, both surviving in the conservatory room. Neither was better than the other. Each has its place in the environment. It all seemed to represent a difficult time where our edges are being explored and tested.

Turning into winter

Today was a morning to pull out my warm winter coat, hat, and gloves for my daily walk. With a cold start to the dawn at 18 degrees, I was treated to tiny and intricate bits of frost decorating the fallen leaves. I marveled at our passing into yet another season, and couldn’t help but think back to warmer temperatures and a now-distant summer.

At the end of August we set out on a three-week camping trip. We left northwest Wisconsin and traveled through Minnesota, South Dakota, and Wyoming – admiring the landscape changes and the beauty that’s found in every state. We drove through prairies, sunflower fields, and canyons. We enjoyed sunsets and moon rises. We camped with family while in Utah, where I was fortunate to catch my first trout!

We took in the majesty of the relatively-snow-less Teton Mountain Range and we stood in awe of the immensity of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone.

We journeyed back through the big-sky state of Montana and finished our trip in the badlands of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park, with the fall colors beginning to appear alongside the Little Missouri River valley.

So on these clear cold days leading further into winter, I especially enjoy the chance to revisit and appreciate the warmth and expansiveness, as well as the beauty and the variety of landscapes that we enjoyed a mere two months ago as we journeyed west.