Veil of fog and frost

.
Late Autumn 2010 ~
.
We woke to winter this morning. Oh, the snow has been on the ground for a couple of days now, but this morning, it felt different… as if winter had decided to stay until spring.

The haze became less and less opague as my eyes moved deeper into the meadow, until fully cloaking those trees that are furthest afield. In their alliance, the fog and frost had blurred the lines between ground, horizon, and sky.
.
© 2010 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Leaves made of ice

Late winter, 2009/2010 ~

I suppose that if I write anything further about frost, one might conclude I am a fan of the cold. Few things could be less true; I am eager for the spring sun to condemn all of this snow to a watery end, and chase it to the river where it will float my kayak.

This morning it seemed that the ice itself was longing for summer.

Again today, there was an icey fog on the meadow. And instead of lifting with the sunrise, some of it clung to the trees and shrubs... in such a manner that it seemed to mimmick the leaves that would sprout there in the spring. The flakes rose more than a quarter inch from some of the branches, using the twigs and even thorns as their anchors.

In its shape, in the way it clustered, and in the way it reached-out beyond each branch... it seemed like the flakes of ice wanted to be seen as leaves. When spring arrives and the frost melts to moisture for the trees and shrubs to drink, perhaps the ice will have its wish.

.

© Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

The moon is full tonight

Late winter, 2009/2010 ~

The owl has little visual advantage over the hare or field mouse this evening, as the full moon, clear skies and fresh snow have cast a light over the entire meadow. If he is to eat before sunrise, he will have to rely on his remaining three weapons: The stealth of his approach, the swiftness of his strike and the power of his talons.

The meadow does not photograph well at midnight, even under these conditions. Just picture a place that seems to be sleeping when given a fast glance. But watched slowly--the way it is watched by the owl--it fills with the movement of a nocturnal society. It is a contradiction, at once peaceful and vicious, depending only on your point of view.

© Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.