nature

A Residual Winter Breath (2)

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RiverIce_Sculpture4There was a small taste of spring here before winter came back to to say its goodbyes. The cold and strong winds of a few days ago have fashioned some icy sculptures along the river’s edge and on this quiet morning a thin layer of fresh ice was singing and straining under the stirring of a waking river. Later today we are promised snow and the landscape will transform temporarily yet again. As much as I find these transformations fascinating and lovely to photograph, I think I am quite ready for real spring. RiverIce_Sculpture7RiverIce_Sculpture8RiverIce_Sculpture9RiverIce_Sculpture10RiverIce_Sculpture11RiverIce_Sculpture5

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Above images: The Aftermath, April 06, 2016
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Above image : Wind & Waves, April 03,16.

Below: click on image to open gallery view.

© Karen McRae, 2016

The Melt (ice abstracts)

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Ice erosion, shoreline (a multiple exposure image).
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Ice erosion (immersed camera).

I love the fluidity of these liminal spaces between winter and spring. The ice folding back from the shoreline exposing inky cold water, translucence and grit.  There is much beauty in the rituals of the seasons.

© Karen McRae, 2016

Things To Love About February

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This view.

February holds a little bit of everything, even in its infancy. Snow (not enough), rain, freezing rain, warm temperatures, freezing cold temperatures. It is a month that throws itself to the wind and just goes with it.

All this ‘weathering’ has created a lovely kaleidoscope of shapes on this expansive part of river, the colours shifting with the light and clouds as they streak across the sky.

 

© Karen McRae, 2016

Waxwings

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Waxwings3I’ve been seeing glimpses of this flock for several days out my window. They rise and fall as swiftly and gracefully as snowflakes on the whim of the wind. Moving between evergreens heavy with pine cones, mountain ash trees laden with berries, and a huge silver birch with winter buds.  It seems each time I decide to go outside and watch them they are gone by the time I bundle up and lace up my boots. I’ve been sneaking shots through the window, but really, they are too fast for me.

© Karen McRae, 2016