There’s a special stillness and quiet of a Sunday morning that doesn’t exist on other days. Perhaps most people are slowly easing into the day. The sound of commuter traffic is not to be heard, the air is still as the wind hasn’t picked up yet, and the landscape becomes peaceful and meditative. I headed over to Como Park early this morning. After a light snowfall yesterday and another dusting during the night, the snow was once again white and clean. The footsteps of walkers and the tracks of snowshoes had been covered. There was a bird that had awakened on the other side of the park, and his call was soft but not disturbing, as if he too had only just awakened. This bench had been decorated with the fresh snow, and it seemed to invite anyone who was willing to climb up and over the piles of snow by the side of the road to come sit for a while and enjoy the quiet and the beauty of this early morning time.
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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.
Morning after the blizzard
This morning dawned bright and cold. The air temperature was hovering around zero, the wind was blowing sharply from the north, and the sun was crisp. Our surroundings in the Twin Cities had changed over the previous 24-hours as we had added 17 inches of snow to the five inches that remained from our last snowfall. With the forecast on Friday of heavy snow by Saturday, people were busy preparing for the worst. At 9:00pm Friday night the grocery store parking lot was packed, and all the checkout lines inside were 10 to 12 people deep. Saturday saw very few people on the roads as the snow fell all day long, with the wind blowing it into drifts that were beautifully artistic, not to mention deep. I’ve learned that in a snow of this type, you do NOT wait until the snow stops to shovel. Those people who didn’t begin to shovel until today were faced with snow up to their knees, and that was once they had cleared a way to get out the door. For all the gray and snowy skies of yesterday, the bright sunshine today was welcome, even if the temperatures stayed only in the single digits. It is a beautiful white landscape here, and I’m sure it will be a white Christmas in the Twin Cities this year.
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