Ice and squirrel

A few photographs I took last January. just before I set out on last year's vacation. Yesterday's rain and high temperatures pretty much wiped out all the snow around here, so it's looking very different around these parts right now than it obviously did a year ago. But New England weather being what it is, we'll undoubtedly be inundated by the white stuff again before too long...

A red squirrel posing on top of one of the frames my folks use to protect their plants from snow buildup:

A second red squirrel with an unusual patch of black hair along its side:

Some interesting ice formations along the little stream up in the woods:

And Kaylee, basking in a patch of sunshine:

Berry frosting

I took my camera with me today when I went out to get lunch, figuring it would make for a nice change to do some outdoor photography someplace other than the area behind our office building. I had a vague notion of taking some landscape pictures, so I switched to my wide-angle lens before I left.

As I drove over a bridge crossing the Battenkill down on Union Street, I noticed that a lot of ice had formed along a fallen tree, to the point where it almost looked like a curtain—albeit a very short one—hanging between the tree and the water. Since there was a safe place to pull over close by, I decided to take a closer look:



Since I was already at the river's edge, I scanned along the bank to see what else might be interesting to photograph—these ice columns certainly filled the bill:



Then, I finally took a good look at the berry bush I was standing next to and realized that just about every surface facing the stream was covered in hoar frost. The combination of the fern-like ice crystals and the red berries was, as you can see, quite striking:



The biggest challenge (other than keeping my footing on the short but steep slope) was finding spots where there was something in the background other than snow so there'd be a bit of contrast:





You can't see much of the ice crystals in this shot, but I liked the asterisk-like formation of the berries on the left:



A closer look at a few berries:



And one last group shot to close things out:

Berries, snow and ice

Yesterday I noticed that snow had collected on the tops of some of the berries growing next to our gallery building, but when it happened it was far too late in the day for me to even hope to get a decent photo. Thankfully, it hasn't yet gotten windy enough to dislodge all of the snow, so I was still able to give it a shot today:



Because of our recent wonky weather—which included rain over the weekend, a snowstorm Monday afternoon, and a temperature drop that had us waking up to single-digit temperatures on Wednesday—the water flow into and out of the museum's casting pond is both substantial and rapid. So when I went over today to see what kind of ice had formed since our weekend thaw, I saw some interesting formations right where the water comes out of the pond. In this next image, you can see on the left that there's quite a bit of spray where the water hits the ground; as a result, the surface of the ice that's formed looks a lot like rock candy:





I was more than a little impressed by how much ice had built up on this relatively small branch on the other side of water outlet:



Finally, a fallen branch that overhangs the stream a few feet down from where the water merges from the pond

Cold heart

It's rather late, so I'm going to keep this one short and sweet. As we ate lunch in our office, I asked Yoshi what I should take pictures of today (and by "asked" I mean "sort of whined in hopes I'd sound pathetic enough that he'd do my thinking for me"). His suggestion: the ice that's almost completely covered our casting pond. That worked for me.

I'd already taken a few photographs of this reed when I realized that if I shot it from a slightly different angle, the reed and its shadow formed the shape of a heart:



Autofocus can be a tricky thing at times, especially when both the foreground and the background are busy enough to offer a variety of targets for the camera to choose from; there have been many times when, much to my chagrin, the camera decided to switch its focus from a bird to, say, the trees or brush behind it. Such was the case when I was attempting to photograph some red branches against the ice, and this time along it resulted in a pair of photos that made for an interesting comparison.

Since I rarely use a tripod, and as a rule keep my camera set to shoot continuously as long as I hold the button down (the better to try and snag one a good action shot), most of the time I'll take several photos of a subject at once even if it's completely motionless. One photo in the bunch is usually a bit sharper than all the rest, because while I'll never be able to consciously hold my hands perfectly steady for a single shot, there will still be split seconds as I shoot when it happens naturally. But while I photographed the branches, there was a moment when the camera shifted focus between one image and the next. So in one picture, the branch in the foreground is nice and sharp:



And in the very next, it's the snow-speckled ice that's crystal clear. I find it kind of interesting to flip back and forth between the two. But as I said it's a bit late, and I'm getting punchy:



Finally, I took this one over where the water flows into the pond, as it hasn't quite been cold enough long enough to freeze water that still has a hint of movement to it:

Icing

Even though I'd wanted to keep living in denial of the fact that winter has arrived, discovering ice formations on the branches overhanging the small creek that runs through the museum property most definitely dragged me (kicking and screaming may or may not have been involved) into the reality of the season. On the plus side, it does give me something other than birds to photograph...

Somehow I ended up with a lot of interesting visuals in this one shot. The ice on the end of the branch and the way it stands out against the dark water was, obviously, my main focus. But there's also the crossed branches and their reflection, which I think add an interesting contrast. Not to mention those swirls all over the surface of the water; it reminds me of what oil on water looks like, but without the iridescence:



The water was moving too fast to get a perfect reflection of the ice that's hanging off the edge, but I didn't think this one was too bad:



Just thought this bit of ice looked very cool—no pun intended:



I really liked the combination of the ice and the still-green plants:



Finally, this one intrigued me because of the way the ice that's formed on this plant still echoes the shape of the bud, even though it's now several times larger than the object itself:

Inching toward spring

Today was one of those days when Mother Nature reminded us that while the calendar may indicate it's spring we still, in fact, live in Vermont: we had clear blue skies and temperatures cool enough that I could see my breath when I went outside at 12:30 in the afternoon.

At the museum we hosted an event aimed toward getting people geared up for fishing season: visitors could tie clown flies, made a practice rod for casting, practice their fishing knots, or have the chance to see what it feels like to reel in a fish. Here, Yoshi tests one of the pseudo-fish out:



We also had a pair of fly tyers there demonstrating their craft. One of the gentlemen, whose name I of course don't recall, brought samples of some of his more unusual creations to show kids that your fly tying is only limited by your imagination:





After work I went up to my folks' house so we could all have dinner together. Before that, though, Mom took me over to Equinox Pond to show me something she thought I'd like to photograph. On our way over, I noticed a fairly large dead tree caught up in the branches of a living one:



What Mom had spotted earlier in the day while she and Dad were out walking Kaylee was a bunch of ice formations along where run-off water was pouring out of a culvert and down through the woods. I worked my way along both sides of the stream as I took these, and Kaylee was helpful enough to wade through the stream and then shake herself off all over my back about a foot from where I crouched on the bank—clearly she wanted me to enjoy the full sensory experience:















As we walked back home Mom also spotted this bit of fungus, which stood out vividly against the bark:



Just after we cleared the woods Kaylee spotted her good friend Robbie. Naturally, playtime ensued:





But since she'd already been on three walks and played ball earlier in the day, after she'd gotten her cheese and we'd had our drinks Kaylee made herself comfy and decided she'd had enough of the whole movement thing—at least for the time being:



I don't know about anyone else, but to me that's the look of a dog thinking, "Nothing short of an entire side of beef would entice me to move from this spot—and even then I'd have to give it some serious consideration."

Lunchtime excursion

Today's quest for photos took me down Union Street to where it crosses the Battenkill; thankfully, now that we've lost most of our snow the small pull-off just next to the bridge is once again visible and safe to use.

After I got out of the car and started looking around, my eyes were immediately drawn to how the red of these branches stood out from the rest of the landscape:





I also noticed a culvert just off the river that had a fair amount of runoff water coming out of it, and upon closer examination I was a little surprised to see several ice formations around the edge of the opening and along the sides of the water flow. It has been getting below freezing here at night (much to the delight of the local sugarers), so I can only surmise that this spot doesn't get enough sunlight during the day to melt whatever ice forms overnight. Which worked out pretty well for me, photo-wise:





After I'd taken my river photos, I hoofed it across the bridge—there's barely enough room on it for two cars to fit side-by-side, and I had no desire to test how long I could hang from a guardrail if a truck happened to drive through—to take a quick look around. I was now along the edge of a fairly narrow strip of land between the Battenkill and Richville road that, as far as I can tell, is only used for growing hay; I feel like I remember seeing cows graze there when I was a kid, but I certainly wouldn't want to have to swear to it in a court of law. There were a few pieces of equipment around, like the wagon they towed along and collected the finished bales of hay in, but I liked how this tractor looked against the dead grass currently covering the field:



Finally, the weathered side of a small shelter that sits on the edge of the property—I thought the texture really popped out in the sunlight: