Tiny, Frozen Things
Man, it’s been cold. Even before the snow fell.
To many, I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer. As evidence: I’ve been out many times recently when the temperature was measured at five degrees. It’s been much colder when considering wind chill. For my European friends, I’m talking Fahrenheit numbers. -15 on the Celsius scale. Or colder; calculate the wind & moisture and subtract from there.
Visually it’s peaceful and magical outside. That’s the good news. The magic counterbalances the feelings that my nose will soon snap off my face like an ugly icicle, and that my fingers are about as flexible as frozen tree trunks while I’m trying to change settings or make an actual photograph.
Unfortunately I’m not always ready to shoot wildlife in this weather. I’m not talking about comfort. Those earlier paragraphs were melodramatic; I’ll admit it. I know it’s much colder in some parts of the world. But at these temperatures I need to keep the camera in the bag a lot while I walk and look for photo opportunities. I can’t hold the camera indefinitely in a shooting position while I “hunt” for subjects as I do in other seasons. In this weather, if I try carrying the camera in “ready position” for any length of time, the air freezes the electronics. Then I can’t capture anything at all. f8 and being elsewhere would be a lot easier.
But waiting for easier conditions would mean I’d miss out, and I’m not willing to do that. It’s beautiful and quiet along the creek. In most sections the water flows silently beneath the ice. Along most of the trail there’s not even a riffle to be seen or heard, and any sounds from outside are dampened by the snow. Again, it’s magical.
And while it’s more difficult to capture wildlife in these conditions, it’s not impossible. I managed to walk around with camera in hand long enough to make some images that I’ll share next week. But for now, I want to share some of the small, motionless things a person might notice when they are out in a space like this.
Before the recent snowstorm, much of Goose Creek was nevertheless frozen. The surface was perfectly monochrome under grey skies. When a splash of color happened to be frozen into the surface, it popped in dramatic fashion.
Without the color splash? Stepping downstream a bit I made this abstract image. Graceful. Soothing. Like a thick, metallic paint that had poured slowly across the surface, shimmering.
But not all sections of the creek were graceful and soothing. The next scene, only a dozen feet away, feels violent. Ice crystals can be so fascinating.1
Then the snow arrived. Tall grasses were buried in many places, but some poked through the surface.
Beneath them, more ice crystals, these like minuscule diamonds. Here they are mere supporting actors for the pale grasses.
And of course, there are other tiny things in the neighborhood. I’ve shooed them away for now. But they can have the stage next week.
Until next time,
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I’ll admit that the rock in the upper left corner was brownish, so the scene was not thoroughly monotone. I desaturated the rock so your eyes wouldn’t be dragged up there for no useful reason.
The last image made me smile! ☺️
Stunning. The leaf!