Polar vortex- Photography

 

Polar vortex- Photography

Saturday was a pleasant 50 degrees.

So nice, we were concerned winter would skip us entirely this year. I missed the news blitz that warned of an approaching storm.

Sunday we woke up to a gorgeous snow-covered landscape, and it was beyond cold!

 

 

I invited my daughter B to join me on a nature photoshoot, with her new camera. It was an added comfort to know we could take her Jeep!

It was an added comfort to know we could take her Jeep!

Funny thing about this trip. She came to the car well prepared. Many layers, covered ears, the works.

 

 

I ran in from errands, naively delusional of the temps, based on the short distance between stops. As we headed out, our first attempt at pulling over was a BRUTAL reality check.

Wearing thin pants and a sweatshirt, a beanie and snow boots was not wise. I grabbed a light jacket (at her prompting).

The exhilaration of a promising photo outing sometimes leaves me ill-prepared.

 

 

 

What is an arctic blast?

These photos are lightly edited, if at all.

I wanted you to get a very realistic picture of the unique beauty of the wind.

Crossing through the farmlands, long ago harvested, the wind shakes the car. Snow blows across suddenly into clouds of powdery ice.

It hurts. Terribly.

It is also breathtakingly beautiful.

 

 

My daughter snuck a few shots of me, determined to get something interesting on record for you.

She told me later that she thought you might like it.

B is thoughtful like that, and I appreciated it.

It isn’t often I find myself on the other side of a lens in these circumstances!

 

 

Care to guess the temperature?

14 degrees with a -12 windchill.

See how the snow formed into ice on the sides of the cornstalks?

 

 

Within minutes the roads were again indistinguishable from the fields. Drifts deceptive on either side.

There are no indicators to where culverts, ditches, etc. might be hiding. It all appears smooth.

The sky again turned blue, just as fast.

 

 

I prefer winter and Fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape, the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show. ~Andrew Wyeth

 

 

We made our way to a small river, which hosts pets and children when the weather is warm.

The water lazily drifts past shallow rocky areas, pooling in small nooks.

The roar of the river on this day was not to be taken lightly. The force and speed amazed us.

Water froze onto pieces of wood, stuck on the waterfall. Frigid masterpieces.

 

 

 

See those large clusters of icicles?  They were, I thought, the most unique thing we’d see this day.

Until we saw the tips of a large tree, maybe a willow?

Each end dipped into the water and formed a frosty clump. Even as the water swirled quickly around them, none seemed to break.

 

 

What a severe yet master artist old Winter is. No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel. ~John Burroughs, “The Snow-Walkers,” 1866