The past week was all about winter here in the Twin Cities. It was the St. Paul Winter Carnival with its ice and snow sculptures along with all the outdoor activities associated with the event. I was fortunate to have a dear friend from the Seattle area here visiting (yes, people really do come to Minnesota for vacations!). I wanted to show her something that’s unique to our area in the winter time besides all the piles of snow that are gracing our urban landscape. So we headed north to the second largest lake in the state, Mille Lacs. We got our road pass for the day and drove four plus miles out into the lake on the ice road. How bizarre to look at my GPS and see the car symbol surrounded by blue water! Just a reminder that there really is a lake underneath this layer of ice. The lake is filled with fish houses now, as far as the eye can see. Some are sitting out all by themselves, and others are close together forming their own little villages. Although we didn’t see any large piles of fish sitting nearby, I’m sure the fishing must have been good on this blue-sky day.
Photography
The good, bad, and the ice
With the coldest week of our winter so far, the weather has been perfect for the U.S. Pond Hockey Championships that were held at Lake Nokomis this weekend. Attracting hockey players from all over the world, the games are held outside in the winter landscape of the frozen lake. No matter the temperature, the players are in their element. Some teams show up in full hockey uniforms, while others are playing in jeans and red flannel shirts. But it’s the sport and the camaraderie that’s showcased here. So that’s the good of our winter weekend. However the ice also played a sinister part in my weekend. While I was walking up to the warming tent at the Pond Hockey tournament, I shared an experience that many other Minnesotans have endured this winter. My feet went out from under me and I landed on the ice, trying to steady myself with my right hand. Oops! – not the thing to do. This split-second slip earned me a trip to urgent care and x-rays of my wrist. Luckily it’s not broken, although it’s done its share of swelling and turning black and blue. I now have a renewed appreciation of my dominant right hand and all the things I use it for. Note to self: Be aware, be alert, take small steps, and concentrate on what you’re doing and where you’re going. We still have many more weeks of winter to go and, needless to say, I don’t want a repeat performance.
The simplicity of winter
There is a wondrous simplicity that seems to take hold of the landscape in winter. With all the snow that has fallen, our world has become very black and white. Color is hard to find in the surroundings. With a fresh few inches of snow this past week, I headed out of the house with my camera before dawn. I didn’t have to venture very far — just over to a nearby golf course. The world was quiet on this winter’s day; there were no birds, animals, or other people when I got to my destination. The silence was only interrupted by the sounds of my snowshoes. Quickly the sun moved over the horizon and into the sky adding some color to the scene. Doing so it lent its warm light to the cold landscape, with long shadows over the clean snow. As if on cue, the rest of the world began to stir and wake. I heard a cross-country skier out on the groomed tracks, and I heard cars moving by with their tires scrunching the compact snow on the roads. The quiet and stillness had changed, but the simplicity of snow and trees and sunlight was still there.
Winter’s sunset at the Cannon River
Our weather has remained cold this past week with temperatures hovering around zero at night. With this extended cold snap all the lakes within the Cities are frozen over. Until a snowshoe hike yesterday, it has been awhile since we’ve seen any open water. We ventured to the far southern edge of Dakota County, Minnesota to the Miesville Ravine Park Reserve. Way off the beaten path, and down a winding gravel road, we had the park all to ourselves on this late afternoon. The crunch of our snowshoes broke the silence of the cold air. The trail followed alongside a small creek which accompanied us with its sound of tumbling water. There were a few bird calls and one squirrel that was racing across the snowy landscape, but otherwise we were alone as the sun was beginning to move low on the horizon. We crossed the road to where the creek joined into the Cannon River and were surprised to see bits and pieces of ice floating in the water, sometimes gathering along the shore and becoming more dense. The sun was shining on the hillside opposite of the ravine causing the barren trees to take on a golden reddish hue. Their warm tone was a beautiful contrast to the white of the snow and the ice on the ground.
All’s quiet on Christmas eve
We awoke on Christmas eve to more snow. In what has become our snowiest December on record, another five or six inches of snow served to freshen the white coating. After taking care of last-minute shopping and dinner preparations we decided to take some time for ourselves. A drive into Saint Paul brought us past this lovely neighborhood park, complete with a beautiful tree shimmering with a fresh dusting of snow and sparkling lights. The perimeter of the park was marked by luminary candles, and off in the distance were the lights of the Cathedral of Saint Paul where people were making preparations for Midnight Mass. For the time we were here at the park, this night was still and quiet. This was the time to appreciate the evening, the beauty we enjoy during winter, and this magical and hopeful season of Christmas.
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