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.
snow
Book Across the Bay, 2010 edition
We’ve just returned from a delightful weekend in Ashland, Wisconsin on the shores of Lake Superior. With a dear friend from Seattle who wanted to experience the fun of a snow-filled winter event, our visit coincided with the 14th annual Book Across the Bay. To celebrate the uniqueness of our upper-midwest winters (and just because we can!) over 3,300 people donned their skis and snowshoes and crossed frozen Chequamegon Bay from Ashland to Washburn, Wisconsin. The distance of 10 kilometers was lit by frozen luminaries, and included warm bonfires on the ice marking each kilometer. After snowshoeing for a bit more than a kilometer, I looked back to photograph this winding curve of luminaries leading to the lights of Ashland. Although the event started under partly cloudy skies at dusk, the clouds cleared as we worked our way across the bay, ending under a bright partial moon and a canopy of stars. The promise of a big party, great friends, and good beer at the finish-line was our incentive to “book” the distance.
Hoarfrost in the morning
Just when I think I’ve gotten tired of the cold and the snow, Mother Nature puts a new spin on winter. Yesterday morning I woke up to a beautiful scene. The fog that had crept in during the overnight was freezing and coating everything with a wondrous layer of white. Within a mile from the house I found these lovely flower heads that had been leftover from summer. On any other day I would have walked right past them. But with a frosting of frozen fog and their delicate arching, I became mesmerized and photographed for over a half-hour. It was as if each small snowflake was layered ever so gently, one on top of another. And yet this was all short-lived, as within a matter of hours the sun broke through the clouds and the wind picked up, eliminating any remnants of this morning scene.
Spring color in bloom
It’s winter outside — the ground is covered in white, the temperature is in the teens. But this morning I walked into a breath of spring when I visited the McNeely Conservatory in Como Park. The Winter Flower Show is now on display in the Sunken Garden, and it’s colors and sights are a treat to the eyes as much as its smells and scents are wonderful to experience. The pinks of the azaleas and the pale whites and yellows of the pansies were a beautiful combination of color — soft and delicate as only spring can be. In order to create a “softer” feel to this photograph, I placed a piece of plastic wrap over my lens. It had a wonderful effect of softening the lines and making the image more about the colors and the “feel” of the colors than of the lines of the flowers. As we deal with the snow storm that’s moving through over the next three days, I’ll easily return to my photos and my memories of the smells and colors of the conservatory garden.
Not your usual ice fishing houses
In Minnesota we are proud of our winter sports and activities. Although many people don’t understand, there is a complete culture of ice fishing fanatics who count the days in winter until they can slide their ice houses out on the frozen lakes and pursue their catch of the day. On a bay of Medicine Lake on the western side of Minneapolis you will find an unusual collection of what looks to be ice fishing houses. But this is a different collection of people — this is a group of art shanties that are set up on the ice for about five weeks each year. The collection of 20 “houses” includes a teepee shanty, dice shanties (where you can sit inside and play card games), and a dance shanty, where the music has a great beat, and people keep warm by dancing on the wood floor with a chandelier overhead. If one ventures further out on the lake, you’ll find the more usual collection of ice houses, with the dedicated fishermen and women, but Medicine Lake (and Minnesota) is big enough to cater to all types in this cold season of winter.
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