nature

Dancing into fall

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Fall has arrived on our doorstep. Days are getting shorter and there’s often a chill in the air, especially in the early mornings. The leaves on the trees are starting to show their various autumn shades of red, orange, and yellow. It’s not consistent but there are certainly many patches of brilliant colors. And some of the leaves are now on the ground and underfoot. The air even has a different smell to it.

As I was driving our back roads in search of fall colors, I found some of the ferns had become a lovely shade of copper brown. The longer and lower fronds had twirled inward as they dried. There was a lovely delicate shape to their curves, while the higher fronds seemed to be reaching out for one last dance before the first frost of fall.

The calm of a spring dawn

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It was an early morning in Kimberling City, Missouri. We’d escaped our northern winter temperatures and snow and met up with family and friends to enjoy early spring in southern Missouri. Here the lakes were not frozen and the grass was green.

The colors of a pink and orange dawn gave way to the cool blues of the sky. The tree branches seemed to grasp at the white clouds as they drifted by. Off in the distance I could hear the loons calling as they’re migrating north. The cardinals were high in the budding trees singing their morning songs, and the redbud and dogwood trees were opening their blossoms to the warmer days.

Gradually the world awakened. Other people in the campground started to stir and I could hear boats beginning to head out onto the big lake. The calm and quiet was broken. Now it was time to join others and relish the warm sunshine and fresh air – a perfect spring day!

Snow soldiers in a new year

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The new year of 2023 has followed in the footsteps of 2022 with more snow. Yes, it’s winter. Yes, it’s the north. And yes, it’s expected. But it’s been unusual for us to have a parade of snow storms dumping feet of snow, and beautiful snow at that. In some areas the trees have suffered. Young pines have bent over with the weight of heavy snow on their branches. The tops of the oak trees, with their brown leaves still clinging to the branches, have collected the snow. They too have arced downward to the ground. In the suburban areas we are running out of places to put the snow. So instead it just gets added to the already large piles, growing taller and taller with each snowfall.

But in a nearby red pine forest the trees have stood tall, covered on one side with a stripe of snow. They stand at attention to the winds that blow, and their tall trunks cast long shadows over the white snow on the ground. I see it as a testament to their longevity and their sturdiness. And their example of surviving a continuing winter.

Change to winter in the landscape

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We’ve just returned from a trip south to Missouri for a lovely family wedding. When we left our home in Minnesota the snow was flying and the plows were out clearing the roads. As we drove south the snow depth seemed to diminish with the miles and the sun would peek through the clouds as they were blown across the sky. A few miles later and we’d be surrounded again in a snow squall.

We crossed the border into Iowa and the scenario continued (actually, it continued the following day too!). I am always amazed to see the cleared fields outlined in snow. The geometry of the land becomes accentuated and so much more noticeable. In this instance, all those field lines are in a direct contrast to the roundness of the clouds. It’s a beautiful time to be out on the road and observe how the seasonal changes affect our view of the landscape.

Waiting for the fog to lift

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It was early morning when I launched my kayak into the lake. The smell of fireworks from the previous night’s celebrations hung heavy in the air. There was no wind, no movement; the fog had developed overnight and was now suspended low over the lake.

This is my favorite time of day – the after dawn quiet when the world slowly awakens, before the rush and hurry of another 24 hours. I paddled as quietly as I could, rustling up some ducks that were gliding through the lily pads. Someone had recently been sitting on this dock, throwing their fishing line into the lake, and hoping for a bite. The rod was left leaning against the bench but at the ready for the return of the angler. Perhaps that person was waiting for the fog to lift.