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.
snow
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.
Little cabin on the prairie
This past January, in the middle of freezing temperatures and feet of snow, we were planning a spring trip to a Minnesota state park. We decided that mid-April would be a perfect time to go to the prairie lands of western Minnesota and enjoy a warm sunny weekend with the opportunity to photograph early wildflowers. Of course, this past winter has been harder and longer than usual, and the snow has only recently melted. So it wasn’t altogether a major surprise when we drove to Lac qui Parle State Park on Friday night and arrived in the middle of a snow squall. The snow continued throughout the night and into the morning, with the winds howling around our little camper cabin. As “frightful” as it was outside, we were warm and snug on the bluff overlooking Lac qui Parle Lake, which is a broadening of the Minnesota River. The winds continued throughout the day Saturday, blowing the clouds across the prairie sky. Eventually the front passed us by early Sunday morning and we awoke to blue skies and warmer temperatures. Lac qui Parle was named by French explorers who lived with the Dakota Indians and means the “lake that speaks.” This weekend the area was “speaking” with a plethora of pelicans, geese, ducks, and cormorants. We were even treated to the sighting of a coyote and the olfactory “sighting” of a skunk. With the recent spring snowmelt the lake has flooded the lowlands and even closed some of the roads in the area. However, we were still able to explore this part of the state that borders South Dakota, meet some fascinating people who shared their knowledge and history of the prairie and the area, and brush up on the history of the fur-traders and missionaries that settled here with the Dakotas in the early 1800’s. We will certainly return to this wonderful state park and prairie land again, perhaps in the fall when over 150,000 Canada geese migrate through the area. Although our original plans and expectations did not come to fruition, we had a truly wonderful and enjoyable weekend.
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.
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