Our weather has been cooler since Thanksgiving when we had a bit of snowfall. The consistent cold temps have allowed ice to form on our lakes and ponds. With the promise of a crisp and clear morning I headed to the nearby golf course, not knowing what to expect. What I found was a beautiful dawn with pink skies, a full moon that was slowly making its journey to the horizon line, a frozen pond without snow cover that provided a beautiful soft reflection to the trees, and a wonderful stillness and peace that prevailed in the early hours. The warning signs for “Thin Ice” have already been placed, and some of the ducks and geese are being forced to larger lakes as they search for open water. Slowly we are moving into winter.
reflection
Morning fog on the lake
Our fall has continued dry, yet yesterday morning I awoke to a thickness of fog hanging in the air. I grabbed my camera and drove about five miles north to one of our urban lakes. The further north I went the thinner the fog, until I arrived at the lake with blue skies and a beautiful sunrise. I was a bit bummed that I wasn’t getting the fog that I was hoping for, but I continued to photograph the lake and the fall colors. After about 30 minutes the setting changed, and the fog enveloped the far shore, then rolled across the lake from south to north. The atmosphere was just what I was hoping for. As I waited the fisherman moved closer to the point and I made this image. Two minutes later the fog had thickened even more and the fisherman was not visible and the even the reflections were hidden behind the fog. As fleeting and unpredictable as it can be, I love the ethereal and softening effect that fog can give to an image.
On the cusps of night and day
After record-breaking heat this past week we finally cooled down a bit yesterday. And with a Saturday evening with nothing to do we loaded the canoe on the car, grabbed our fishing rods, and headed out for some lake-time. As we put in to the water the winds died down, and as sunset approached we knew we were in for a treat. Our paddles whispered as they entered the water, the dragonflies were dancing over the surface, and we could glide over the lily pads in quiet. I would fish, then stop and photograph. I’d then put my camera away convinced that the sunset couldn’t get any better, only to pull it back out again. It was a wonderful way to end the day – the quiet of the lake and a mess of sunfish and crappies. And when this morning dawned with quiet and calm too, I headed out early on my bicycle for a quick ride. Like last night there was a great magic in the early hours. The birds were awakening, there was little traffic, the wildflowers were blooming by the sides of the road, and my bike tires sailed smoothly across the pavement. These truly are the “magic hours” and they make me appreciate all that is wonderful about this time and this place.
Bel Air red and gold
For the past 39 years the Minnesota Street Rod Association has held its Back to the 50’s Weekend here in Saint Paul. What started with just a few friends has now grown to over 13,000 members worldwide. For three days our neighborhood by the state fairgrounds has been graced with the most beautiful classic cars cruising down the streets. This weekend brought more than 11,000 custom cars, street rods, and classics that all date from 1964 and before; there was certainly something to excite everyone. I spent a few hours walking the streets today and admiring the cars. On a sunny and warm day the brilliant paint all buffed to a shine was picking up reflections from all around. This wonderful rear fin on a red Bel Air was reflecting the golden colors of the car just next to it. Instantly this whole panel came alive in brightness. It would have been impossible to not smile at these colors of summer so beautifully displayed.
An early morning symphony
In a highly unusual fashion, summer came blowing in on southerly winds this past week, seeming to pass over spring and jumping straight to 80 degree temperatures. When I awoke yesterday morning to 59 degrees I grabbed my camera and headed out the door. I was hoping to photograph the red-winged blackbirds which have flown back into our area and have been heard with their brilliant singing. At a nearby lake I wandered down near the shore where there were cattails and reeds. The area was anything but peaceful. I could hear the blackbirds (although they were sitting high in the trees) and the distant cardinals and blue jays. And high overhead the geese and ducks were calling back and forth as they searched for open water. Many of our lakes have experienced an early ice-out due to the warm temperatures, but on this lake there was open water near the shore, an area of thin ice towards the center, and then another area of water. A muskrat floated by the shoreline in a lazy enjoyable manner. The morning was alive with activity and was in such stark contrast to our quiet hushed mornings of winter. As I composed this photograph I heard the sound of something or someone walking on the dried leaves across the small inlet. I looked up and found a deer watching me. She didn’t seem upset by my presence but rather curious. We watched each other for a while, and then she was joined by another deer. Perhaps they were also enjoying the morning’s early symphony, the smells of spring, and the promise of the changing seasons.
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