Winter persists, not quite wearing out it’s welcome.  A variety of seasons in one;  sometimes frigid, sometimes warm, snow and then rain.  Seemingly unable to make up it’s mind, perhaps like the rest of us.

The many delights still beckon me out of doors. I like the chill on my face, the altered landscape, the low sun. The challenge of elements less comfortable.

Sometimes grand vistas, often intimate groupings or singular images. All altered by this season. Nature’s beauty for us to behold.

Some days I set off on a photographic odyssey.  Maybe it is the beauty of the day that drives me, maybe an idea, sometimes restlessness.  This particular day started before sunrise and took me beyond sunset some 150 miles later.

Frost covered  ground. Sun rising through bare trees. Morning begins.

I traveled northwest rising higher into mountain country, stopping along the way with hopes of being captured by something,  some place, some feeling.

Temperature fell;  so far not many moments of inspiration. The park offices were closed, a few cars in the parking space.  The trail up was icy but inviting.  A promise of sunset from the pinnacle.

The view was beautiful!  With a stiff wind and 30 degree temperature, I waited on this exposed outcropping. Sunset seemed imminent when I set off but now took it’s time. Some anxiety set in; realizing I would be hiking down at dusk, alone, cold, made me ponder this quest.

Approaching sunset. Winter’s brown soon to be replaced by snow.

Sunset.  We see it but then we don’t.  I never tire of the inherent beauty. A scene painted new every day. Patches of ice in small pools in the rock, high forest to low meadows stretching to the distant ridge lines and mountains.

The moon rose with sunset, large and welcome to illuminate the return path.  Funny how the trip back tinged with apprehension always seems longer and mildly disorienting.  (Was it really this far, I don’t remember that, could I have taken the wrong turn, I should be there by now)

 

The snow fell through the night. Soft, dry, pretty.  Blue sky next;  another day’s outing. Sometimes the urge to be out seeing is satisfied easily, distance isn’t needed, close will do.

Bright sky.  Strong shadows. Elemental.

On the rise of the hill, a small chapel, pines, the bluest of skies.  Unblemished snow. Crisp.

Walking along to the river, snow starting to warm with the sun, sun dappled sparkles.

Winter flowers as I call them.  Sometimes only leaves, a few petals. A bud or dry blossom. How they persevere.

Dry leaves.  So interesting in form as they twist and contract.  Quite different from their summer smoothness and symmetry.

I love the contrasting texture. Smooth, waxen leaves. Bark rough and scaling.

The last flower of winter. Preserved.