Due to my recent broken arm and tendon surgery I was not ready to participate in the traditional fishing opener here in Minnesota. I was close but not completely operational a few weeks ago. But thanks to my physical therapy (and a late spring) it was time to test my hand and my fishing skills. We headed north yesterday to a beautiful lake in Cass County, Big Rice Lake. The weather was iffy – possible showers, possible storms, possible sun (in other words, nobody could really predict what it would be). We loaded up the canoe with layers of jackets and rain coats, sunscreen, rods, reels, and good humor. What we were greeted with could not have been expected — a wonderfully calm day with hardly a ripple across the surface of the lake. We were enveloped by a beautiful sky which seemed even more immense as it was reflected in the still lake surface. The clouds danced on the water as we drifted along. A few hours later we’d seen red-winged blackbirds protecting their nests, heard the call of loons from various corners of the lake, gotten a little bit sunburned, and caught our limit of northerns. And after we’d packed up our gear and fish, loaded the canoe back onto the car, and left the boat landing the rain began to come down.
reflection
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.
Brief winter’s thaw at Lake Como
The past week offered up a short respite from winter with a brief thaw. Some of our snow piles diminished and we were able to see open water on some of the lakes. I headed over to Lake Como on Thursday night and was treated to a vibrant sunset that was reflected in the pooling water standing in areas of the lake. It was all looking so much like the beginning of the end of our winter. I was even treated to a small flock of geese that flew overhead, honking as they made their way from one end of the lake to the other. But this was all a tease by Mother Nature. Even after photographing this image, the wind picked up and the temperature began to drop. And today we’ve had snow falling for over 12 hours, accompanied by strong winds creating white-out conditions and drifting. Winter is not done with us yet, as our landscape is now covered with close to a foot of fresh white snow, and any water is now frozen once again.
Summer sunset reflection
For the past week we’ve been treated to some spectacular sunsets. Part of this has been due to residual smoke from fires burning in Canada that has swept into Minnesota, and part has been due to the weather conditions here. The other night while we were out enjoying an ice cream cone, I noticed that the western sky was setting up for what looked like a great sunset. I scurried home to get my camera, then headed out to find a choice spot with a great foreground to make my photographic image of the setting sun. As would happen, the conditions were changing rapidly. I pulled into the parking lot of a commercial building that overlooks the interstate; mind you, not the “choice” spot for a great image. But although what I saw looking to the west was not photogenic, what I saw as a reflection in the building behind me caught my eye. With the curves in the glass and its separate panels, the sunset took on a look that reminded me of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night.” The colors of the sky seemed to swirl about in the reflection, yet were anchored by the lamp and its post. So although I didn’t find what I was expecting, I was delighted at what was presented to me by chance.
Sounds of transition
As a photographer, I consider myself a visual person. My eyes are constantly moving across whatever scene is in front of me, scanning for details, for patterns, for the beauty of the scene. Yet this week I’ve been attuned to the sounds in the air as we transition from winter to spring. With temperatures above freezing throughout the whole week, we’ve been serenaded with the sweet sound of running water. The gutters and drainspouts are gurgling once again — a sound we haven’t heard since early December. The street curbs are filled with water running from the snowmelt down to the storm drains. Every house and building overhang is dripping as the snow is melted by a warmer and brighter sun. As I was walking in the neighborhood this afternoon my ears caught the sound of a group of young boys playing catch and the distant radio broadcast of a spring training baseball game. I think spring is the one season that’s announced by a cacophony of sounds, all that are welcome with the promise of warmer weather, green grass, blue skies and warm sunshine. Yes, we still have mounds of snow and the sidewalks are becoming small canals as the water melts with nowhere to run, but we have hope in this annual ritual.
lindastaatsphoto.com 