As we near closer to Christmas I’m reminded of all the things I have to be thankful for – people, places, and memories. And so many things to look forward to in the new year and beyond.
Wishing you all the joy and love that is found in the celebration of Christmas!
Our landscape has become basic and minimal. Trees are now mere skeletons without their leaves, opening up the landscape to larger scenes – ones that take in the expanse of the sky. And now they also take in the expanse of the ice.
We’re transitioning into the depths of winter. It’s never a straight-line change to our coldest season but rather a roller coaster ride of temperatures. Snow, melt, snow and ice, a partial thaw, cracks in the ice, and eventually the temperatures remain below 32 degrees and the lake ice becomes thicker and covers the entire expanse.
My favorite time of day is morning with it’s promise of a new day. The air is crisp and oftentimes the sun and clouds cooperate together to present an amazing display of colors and light. It’s a time to be thankful for the day, no matter how cold it is, and to appreciate what my eyes and senses can absorb. And add a hot cup of coffee to keep me warm as we all settle into these short days of the year.
The calendar continues to move closer to winter; autumn is almost out of our rear view mirror. The waterfowl have all flown south, the temperatures are dipping lower at night, the sun is hanging closer to the horizon, and the majority of leaves have fallen. The oak tree leaves that remain are a deep russet color.
We had a couple of days of calm winds, where the stillness of nature was delightful. As sunset neared, the winds dropped completely and the lake became like a sheet of glass. The sinking sun’s rays were a golden light and spread across the shoreline. Each tree seemed to glow until gradually the sun sank below the opposite hill and spread it’s shadow over the trees.
Soon the lake will begin to freeze. The oaks will drop their remaining leaves, and winter will settle in. It’s been a glorious, and longer, fall – nothing to complain about here.
As summer fades in the north we are treated to a burst of vibrant fall colors. It’s a feast for our eyes – our senses absorb the colors and try to soak them all in. The blue sky seems bluer and the contrast with the reds, oranges, and yellows of fall grab our attention. It is sometimes breathtaking and even overwhelming, but glorious none the less.
The peak of these colors is lovely, yet fleeting. The intensity changes daily and the colors quickly fade and become muted. And then one day the wind blows and the leaves that had been clinging to the branches since spring let go and carpet the ground with their diminished hues. It’s a ritual that we know happens – a reminder that all things change, and that the snow will soon be ushering in our winter season.
Summer has begun its wind-down. The daylight hours are dwindling, the sun is lower in the sky, the leaves are drying, and some of the birds have already begun their journeys elsewhere. Our colors are starting their change to the deep reds and oranges of fall. So I set out in search of a “last” color of summer and found these Lindley’s asters blooming with their final hurrah, valiantly reaching up to the sun’s warmth. With our lowering night-time temperatures they too will soon be fading into fall’s colors.
lindastaatsphoto.com 