white white sky x STILL

white white sky x STILL

as i have mentioned, last year for me was a bit of a blur. in an effort to get myself out of my ennui, i have been making plans for the new year. among other things, i have decided that a little more variety and stimulation would be a good goal. so, in a fit of good intentions, last night i went to a water aerobics class. for those of you who know me, this is way outside my ordinary. i don’t do aerobics, i don’t like chlorinated pools, and i hate leaving the house after dark in the coldest months of winter. but it was actually fun. and i was glad to have tried it. so i woke up this monring feeling pretty good about myself, and wondering what other new things i should open myself up to in the coming months. around 10 am i swung by my mom’s house to bring her a few things, and i looked at her eye and the whole thing was redder than these crabapples. so, off to the urgent care we went. and five hours later i was pulling back into my driveway and was thanking the universe for winter white skies to use for STILL when my day becomes not my own in (literally) the blink of an eye.

snowcapped crab-apples in winter

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ready and waiting

ready and waiting

most trees and shrubs in our region form their buds in the summer or fall before they go dormant for the winter. most are leaf buds. inside, immature leaves are tightly packed, ready to unfold when the weather gets warm enough and the sap starts running. think of it as money in the bank for next spring. some species’ buds already hold all the leaves the tree will grow next season. others hold a first batch, with more leaves developing after the buds open. i always love seeing these hopeful signs of renewal on my gray winter walks.

winter branch with next spring’s buds

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to make or to take?

to make or to take?

one more shot from the snowy fields that surround my home. i liked the triangular repetition with yesterday’s bent cattail leaves. i am just now cleaning up from the holidays, where i had to turn my studio into a makeshift guest room. soon i will have my space(s) back. and will be able to spend a little more time tinkering with my subjects. in other words, soon i will return to making rather than taking photos.

pampas grasses in the snow

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endless variation

endless variation

we have a cattail bed the size of a football field (soccer pitch for the rest of you) between our home and the lake. the boardwalk through the cattails is one of my favorite things about this house. every single season in the cattail bed is dramatic. in spring the new growth shoots up so fast you can almost see it with the bare eye, in mid-summer the 9-foot tall leaves make an arched tunnel over the boardwalk that’s 100 meters long, in autumn you can see the wind whip through the grass-like leaves like waves on an ocean. and in winter, the brittle leaves snap under the weight of wet snow to form geometric constructions of endless variation and fascination.

cattail leaves in winter (typha)

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tall and proud

tall and proud

the temperature never got above zero (degrees F) today. january in the north requires a certain stoicism. this cattail is the perfect illustration of what that looks like. it takes a certain perversity to truly love this corner of the globe. those who stay, all share that same peculiarity. it makes for an interesting self-selecting group. we’re all weirdos. and we’re okay with that.

snow-crusted cattail in winter

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