It seems unlikely, in the deep cold of winter, that sleeping branches could sprout tiny crystal leaves overnight, and yet…


Perhaps these little twigs are dreaming of spring.
© Karen McRae, 2013
These are the delicate details of frost growth on a window. It has since warmed up here significantly and these icy apparitions have now vapourized but when I look at these images I find they are suggestive of elaborate gardens and graceful trees, Chinese landscape paintings and dragons.







© Karen McRae, 2013
The ephemeral beauty of open water and very cold temperatures.

Water vapour rising and coating the nearby flora in thick frost.



Even the ice, struggling to form at the fringes, finds the air so cold it has coaxed downy feathers to grow on its surface for keeping warm.
Of course, there are more interesting and scientific explanations…here and here…



© Karen McRae, 2013

The water is restless in this part of the river. It pushes on all winter.
The ice tries to stretch over the surface like a cold blanket, but it cannot. The water persuades it to break apart, to keep moving.
The ice talks to the river with deep groans and quiet thuds. It rocks gently, waiting. An indolent heartbeat.
The river finds a crack, heaves a deep breath, and replies.
© Karen McRae, 2013





There has been quite a lot of painting happening here the last couple of months. Brushstrokes and thin layers, glazing and blending.
Trying to find the essence of a seascape in a slow build.
The subdued colours of a day with a low sky.
A sky that settles like a whisper in your cupped hands.
A world painted by fog.
This is not the sea but there is a sense of it here in this river. An essence. There was a sea here once. It has left pieces of itself behind.
•
© Karen McRae, 2013