This past January, in the middle of freezing temperatures and feet of snow, we were planning a spring trip to a Minnesota state park. We decided that mid-April would be a perfect time to go to the prairie lands of western Minnesota and enjoy a warm sunny weekend with the opportunity to photograph early wildflowers. Of course, this past winter has been harder and longer than usual, and the snow has only recently melted. So it wasn’t altogether a major surprise when we drove to Lac qui Parle State Park on Friday night and arrived in the middle of a snow squall. The snow continued throughout the night and into the morning, with the winds howling around our little camper cabin. As “frightful” as it was outside, we were warm and snug on the bluff overlooking Lac qui Parle Lake, which is a broadening of the Minnesota River. The winds continued throughout the day Saturday, blowing the clouds across the prairie sky. Eventually the front passed us by early Sunday morning and we awoke to blue skies and warmer temperatures. Lac qui Parle was named by French explorers who lived with the Dakota Indians and means the “lake that speaks.” This weekend the area was “speaking” with a plethora of pelicans, geese, ducks, and cormorants. We were even treated to the sighting of a coyote and the olfactory “sighting” of a skunk. With the recent spring snowmelt the lake has flooded the lowlands and even closed some of the roads in the area. However, we were still able to explore this part of the state that borders South Dakota, meet some fascinating people who shared their knowledge and history of the prairie and the area, and brush up on the history of the fur-traders and missionaries that settled here with the Dakotas in the early 1800’s. We will certainly return to this wonderful state park and prairie land again, perhaps in the fall when over 150,000 Canada geese migrate through the area. Although our original plans and expectations did not come to fruition, we had a truly wonderful and enjoyable weekend.
Minnesota
Yellow of spring
The one color that sums up everything about spring is yellow. It’s the color of sunshine, the color of warmth, and the color of daffodils. These bright flowers shine with color and promise and brighten any day. Although we don’t have daffodils blooming outside just yet, I was fortunate to find these lovely blooms at the McNeely Conservatory in Como Park. They speak to me of warmer temperatures, the end of winter, the hope of spring, and the promise of summer.
The return to a liquid landscape
We have turned the corner here in the Twin Cities — back to a liquid landscape. Our snow has melted (mostly) and we’ve even had some rain. It’s been music to our ears to hear the sounds of dripping snow and ice, and to once again see and hear rain falling. However, it does mean that we have quite a bit of standing water as well as flood threats on a substantial number of rivers. With sunshine and blue skies above, I set out on a long walk to the library yesterday. Now that the snow is mostly gone there is evidence remaining of what a harsh and early winter we had. Our lawn is filled with leaves that were unraked before our first snow – that first snow that never melted and was followed by another 80+ inches throughout the winter. Many trees are showing damage because of the excess weight of the snow. I’m sure some will recover, but it appears that others may not. Yet there’s a lightness in the air and the hope of spring. Just like me, there are people finding excuses to be outside and enjoying the warm sunshine. The birds are busy chirping and singing, and many of the migratory birds are coming back into the area. I was especially thrilled to hear the honking of a small flock of Canada geese as they flew over our house. They too know that spring has returned to Minnesota.
Something other than winter
It is snowing now as I write this, and with the prospect of snow on four of the next five days, I just couldn’t bring myself to post another photo of winter, no matter how white, peaceful, calm, and beautiful it might be. So I went looking for something with the color of green – the color of spring and hope and warmth. These calla lilies seemed to fit the bill, even if they do include quite a bit of white! The gentle arches and curves of the flowers struck me as both delicate and beautiful. And in this image their colors take on a soft wash because of the shallow depth of field with the photograph. I know spring will yet arrive, even if winter has its tight-fisted grip on us for a bit longer.
The quiet of a Sunday morning
There’s a special stillness and quiet of a Sunday morning that doesn’t exist on other days. Perhaps most people are slowly easing into the day. The sound of commuter traffic is not to be heard, the air is still as the wind hasn’t picked up yet, and the landscape becomes peaceful and meditative. I headed over to Como Park early this morning. After a light snowfall yesterday and another dusting during the night, the snow was once again white and clean. The footsteps of walkers and the tracks of snowshoes had been covered. There was a bird that had awakened on the other side of the park, and his call was soft but not disturbing, as if he too had only just awakened. This bench had been decorated with the fresh snow, and it seemed to invite anyone who was willing to climb up and over the piles of snow by the side of the road to come sit for a while and enjoy the quiet and the beauty of this early morning time.
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