A winter morning

Winter has been fickle this year – snow, more snow, thawing, ice, rain, sleet.  What will greet us in the morning is entirely up to Mother Nature.  But on a recent morning it was cold enough for frost to outline the trees and leaves, and cold enough for the snow to still be lovely and white.  The intense pink and magenta sunrise was fleeting and quickly gave way to fog and low clouds.  The wind was still and the air was silent as I stood by this creek, reflecting the trees and overcast sky as the water meandered through the outlet.

Wishing all of you experiences of joy and wonder in the upcoming new year!

The winter solstice

Today is the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice.  After this dark night our days will become longer and filled with more light.

Wishing you all a bright and wonderful Christmas, and a new year filled with light and wonder.

A quiet repose in winter

The snow of winter has a way of draping its white over everything.  The trees become lined emphasizing their structure and branches.  The ground becomes white showing the curves and hips of hills.  At the University of Minnesota Saint Paul campus is a wonderful sculpture setting of cows.  These bigger than life animals are resting peacefully in their urban setting.  The snow has draped over them also, quietly emphasizing their repose and seeming indifference to the weather.  They’re a great reminder to me to accept the weather, accept the snow, and appreciate its beauty.

A snowshoe hike in the woods

The snow had been falling for hours.  To counter my cabin fever, I strapped on my snowshoes and headed into the woods.  The air was filled with quiet except for the occasional wind that would stir and force the snow to fall from the branches.  I hadn’t expected the snow to be so very deep in the woods, but it was tough and slow trudging through knee-deep snow.  Needless to say it took me much longer than I had expected.  But I was rewarded with beautiful snowy vistas, exercise in the fresh outdoors, and I was even serenaded by trumpeter swans in the distance.

 

The short-lived beauty of a bubble in winter

The cold and snow make us pause.  We can’t hurry and just do the things we normally do — walking on ice-covered paths takes attention and concentration, and five to ten minutes are the minimum just to bundle up to step out in sub-zero temperatures.  But pausing gives us time to observe and to appreciate.  This bubble becomes frozen in a near instant, with crystals forming on the inside and refracting the morning light as the sun rises over the new fallen snow.  Many other bubbles broke as they landed, too fragile to absorb an impact on the soft snow.  And even this bubble was short-lived.  The wind picked up and it shattered quickly; how happy I was that it commanded my attention for a short span.