As with most of the country, this past week has brought a potpourri of weather. We had warm enough temperatures one day to prompt rain (and a lot of it — the most we’ve had in one day since last July). But the temperature dropped that night, the rain turned to sleet and the puddles turned to ice. At some time it turned over to snow, coating the ice-covered trees and streets. In the morning I ventured to the golf course at Como Park. The precipitation had once again changed over to a stinging sleet that was only sharpened by the brisk winds. It was ironically peaceful being the only person out at that time of the morning. The ice and snow had freshened and renewed our wintry landscape once again, dashing any hopes that spring was imminent. But the beauty and the simplicity of the scenery was abundant. Even this fence that was once upright and surrounding the green took on its own sense of rhythm, pattern, and repetition coated in snow. I wandered and photographed for a while until I could hear the wind starting to break off the ice-coated branches of the trees, and erring on the side of caution it seemed the appropriate time to head home.
snow
Late winter reflections
Our winter has been unusual by normal Minnesota standards. The snow drought has continued with warmer temperatures, but just when we thought spring was being ushered in on southerly winds we got a snowfall of three inches. Now that’s not a huge snowfall, but this year it amounts to one of our larger ones. Since the air temperatures are much warmer, any snow that does come is likely to melt rather quickly. And so it was with this snow. As I was driving home the other night I entered our alley and was greeted by this scene. I don’t normally think of alleys are being prime photographic opportunities, but I was caught off guard this day. The power poles created a wonderful repetition in the standing water, and the reflection of the colors of the sky created a meandering curve down the length of the alley.
Morning magnolia
Our winter landscape is brown this year because of our snow drought. And from a photographer’s viewpoint (at least this photographer), brown is not the most photogenic of landscape colors, especially in winter. But my attention was caught this morning when I looked out our front window. A few years back we planted a small magnolia by the window. Because it’s early February there’s nothing special about this magnolia — it’s way too early for it to bloom, and it’s only sticks and tips of branches right now. But I saw it much differently this morning when I looked out the window. The sun was backlighting the magnolia and the branches seemed to be dancing in the light — they were thin and random and their tips were haloed with the sunlight. Even the reflection of the side window frames seemed to add an ethereal quality to the setting before me. The entire scene and dance was playing out for me right outside my window — it only asked that I be aware and notice it. A little bit of extra attention to those things we see and take for granted everyday can sometimes reward us with exceptional sights, moments, and in this case photographs.
Cue a new year
With our brown grass and unseasonably warmer temperatures it really hasn’t “felt” or “looked” like Christmas, let alone winter. For New Year’s Eve we planned a quiet day of running errands and making turkey soup, and then headed out for an evening movie at the historic Riverview Theater in Minneapolis. And as things seem to have a way of cueing up at just the right time, we came out of the theater around 9:30 to the sight of a beautiful snowfall. We walked across the street to a lovely cafe and wine bar, and enjoyed the mixture of lively conversation and a band while watching the snow collect on the sidewalks and trees. This was a wet and heavy snow, and the flakes were the biggest I’ve ever seen. Some could easily have been over an inch and half square! It was as if 2012 had taken its cue to enhance our mood with a much-needed and appropriate snowfall.
As I look back on 2011 I am thankful for so many things – friends, family, and good health (including one repaired thumb). I’ve had the opportunity to make over 5,100 photographic images this past year. Granted, not all of them are the “perfect” image, but many have served as “sketches” for a final image. I’ve also taken two short videos – one was intentional and one was not. And, for the 3rd year I have posted a photo and entry to this blog every week. I started to blog in 2009 as a challenge to maintain my love of photography. Some weekends I approach my computer and blog with joy, wanting to share a great photo and a wonderful experience I’ve had. Other weekends I start to panic on Sunday realizing that I haven’t had my camera out and I feel a deadline fast approaching. Each of those scenarios have taught me things about myself and my photography. Thanks to all of you that follow my blog, and to those who comment. Your interest in my scenes and stories, coupled with your comments and your stories keep me coming back week after week.
May this coming year be filled with peace, hope, beauty, vision, more photographs, experiences, and a life filled to the brim!
On the wing
The days are shorter. The nights are colder. The first snow of the season has fallen. And our lakes are starting to ice over as we begin to slide into winter. Along with all these changes there is an increase in the activity of the ducks and geese. One of my favorites sights and sounds is a flock of Canada geese flying overhead — the beat of their wings and their honking is music to my ears. Since I live between Lake Como and the agricultural fields of the University of Minnesota I am on the path of the geese flying from the water at the lake to the food at the agricultural crops at the U. So many times I am stopped in my tracks to look up and appreciate their flight overhead. I know that soon enough the majority of geese and ducks will have migrated south to warmer climes and we will return to the hush and quiet of the snow and the cold of winter. In this week of Thanksgiving, the geese and their winged flight are one of the many things I appreciate and am thankful for.
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