as we glide into february and a stretch of 30 degree days (balmy by local standards), i choose to see this branch not as a symbol of barrenness cloaked in snow, but of snow clinging desperately, in a losing battle, to a branch bulging with this spring’s buds. it’s a half-full day today. won’t you join me?

wet snow on winter twig against a white sky

saint paul, minnesota

we have fat chickens who live in a hardwood forest, which means by definition that we also have fat squirrels. it is just as difficult to keep squirrels out of the chicken feed as it is to keep them out of the birdfeeder. so we inadvertently do our part every day to give the local squirrels a healthy layer of fat to survive the winter, which i’m sure the foxes and hawks appreciate. someday it seems inevitable that we will inadvertently feed those foxes and hawks some plump chicken as well. as i mentioned at the start: we have fat chickens who live in a hardwood forest.

eastern gray squirrel caught snacking outside our chicken coop

saint paul, minnesota

i spend a part of almost every day trying to get rid of shadows. i use a light diffusing screen that i hold in one hand like a mutant semaphor, while trying to press the shutter of my tripod mounted camera with the other hand. i move arrangements from the kitchen window on one side of the house to the patio door on the other side, to the window in my son’s west facing bedroom, and back to the kitchen window, trying to find the most indirect light in the house. post processing is partly a question of getting my backgrounds white, but it’s also a lot about toning down shadows so that my subjects pop out without looking as if they are obviously sitting there against a white sheet of paper. today was what i called a “bucket day,” except i used a different consonant at the beginning of that phrase. sometimes shadows themselves are beautiful. and STILL is about beauty, right? so here are some beautiful shadows. enjoy them, goddamn it. i don’t want to hear a word.

wild aster stems in winter

rice creek, saint paul, minnesota

these sphinx moths are among our favorite visitors in mediterranean france, where they thrum around the geraniums like hummingbirds, unfurling their enormous proboscides to probe for nectar. these specimens come from my parents-in-law, currently stationed in la jolla, california, which happens to be as close to a mediterranean landscape and climate as probably exists in the united states. on this cold january night, i envy them their current 60 degrees, their marine air, and their friendly sphinx moths.

white-lined sphinx moth (hyles lineata), commonly known as the hummingbird moth

la jolla, california

after yesterday’s rigid typescript, i decided today’s image needed a little flowing cursive. i think this spells TGIF, in the language of marsh grass.

winter switchgrass

arden hills, minnesota