As with most of the country, this past week has brought a potpourri of weather. We had warm enough temperatures one day to prompt rain (and a lot of it — the most we’ve had in one day since last July). But the temperature dropped that night, the rain turned to sleet and the puddles turned to ice. At some time it turned over to snow, coating the ice-covered trees and streets. In the morning I ventured to the golf course at Como Park. The precipitation had once again changed over to a stinging sleet that was only sharpened by the brisk winds. It was ironically peaceful being the only person out at that time of the morning. The ice and snow had freshened and renewed our wintry landscape once again, dashing any hopes that spring was imminent. But the beauty and the simplicity of the scenery was abundant. Even this fence that was once upright and surrounding the green took on its own sense of rhythm, pattern, and repetition coated in snow. I wandered and photographed for a while until I could hear the wind starting to break off the ice-coated branches of the trees, and erring on the side of caution it seemed the appropriate time to head home.
Minnesota
Late winter reflections
Our winter has been unusual by normal Minnesota standards. The snow drought has continued with warmer temperatures, but just when we thought spring was being ushered in on southerly winds we got a snowfall of three inches. Now that’s not a huge snowfall, but this year it amounts to one of our larger ones. Since the air temperatures are much warmer, any snow that does come is likely to melt rather quickly. And so it was with this snow. As I was driving home the other night I entered our alley and was greeted by this scene. I don’t normally think of alleys are being prime photographic opportunities, but I was caught off guard this day. The power poles created a wonderful repetition in the standing water, and the reflection of the colors of the sky created a meandering curve down the length of the alley.
Morning magnolia
Our winter landscape is brown this year because of our snow drought. And from a photographer’s viewpoint (at least this photographer), brown is not the most photogenic of landscape colors, especially in winter. But my attention was caught this morning when I looked out our front window. A few years back we planted a small magnolia by the window. Because it’s early February there’s nothing special about this magnolia — it’s way too early for it to bloom, and it’s only sticks and tips of branches right now. But I saw it much differently this morning when I looked out the window. The sun was backlighting the magnolia and the branches seemed to be dancing in the light — they were thin and random and their tips were haloed with the sunlight. Even the reflection of the side window frames seemed to add an ethereal quality to the setting before me. The entire scene and dance was playing out for me right outside my window — it only asked that I be aware and notice it. A little bit of extra attention to those things we see and take for granted everyday can sometimes reward us with exceptional sights, moments, and in this case photographs.
Hoarfrost in the morning
This past week we’ve had mild temperatures at night coupled with unusually high dew points resulting in a few mornings of fog — the kind that hangs around all day, never burns off, and makes the day gray and gloomy. It’s not a very usual occurrence here in Minnesota, so it’s always noticeable when it’s foggy for a day or two. That was the case until Friday night when the temperature dropped down to 24 degrees and the air was still thick with moisture. Even before daylight on Saturday it was evident that Mother Nature was gracing everything with hoarfrost. The moisture that was clinging to trees, plants, and even fences had frozen in the air. It was a wonderfully beautiful sight — our brown grass was dusted in sparkling white, and all the trees and branches were lined in frost. Even more unusual was that it remained this way until midday. The sun tried to break through the low clouds, and when the wind picked up ever so slightly there was a cascade of ice crystals that would fall down from the trees overhead. I hiked through a local park and the landscape looked like it was photographed with infrared film. I loved the way the frost outlined the individual links in this chain-link fence and the leaf that was captured within its squares.
A winter’s sleigh ride
Amidst a light coating of snow and a bright and sunny day, I went to the 36th annual sleigh & cutter festival that was put on by the St. Croix Horse & Carriage Society. Because of our lack of significant snow this year I wasn’t sure if the event was going to take place. But this year’s smaller snowfall was much easier on the horses and ponies than last year’s two to three feet of snow that they tried valiantly to move through. With the somewhat “mild” temperature of 20 degrees and sunshine, the horses seemed to enjoy the outing, moving easily across the open spaces and kicking up a light dusting of snow. The drivers were dressed in period costumes and the horses and ponies were adorned with bells that rang and echoed across the course. If you were to block out the sound of the cars traveling on the boulevard nearby it would have been easy to think that the year was 1900 when this was the mode of transportation for winter days.
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