During a snowy, wet spring day, I took a short hike at Jay Cooke State Park to check the water level on the St. Louis River. The river still has a bit of ice around the edges but, the main channel is open and flowing. As I climbed around the rocks, I discovered this bit of color.
This gallery contains 3 photos.
Take time to view each image and let your mind interpret what the eyes see. Let your imagination run wild.
Temperatures are rising and the ice is melting, adding it’s water to the lake drop by drop.
I recently traveled around parts of North Dakota and had time to capture a few shots that I felt give a sense of the open spaces that exist in the western part of our country. One of these days I hope to spend time slowly exploring these wide open places under the big sky.
Standing at the intersection of rock and water, trying to determine where one ends and the other begins.
She looked down and wondered…is there more than one reality?
I don’t typically do my posts as a series, but I will break with tradition in this instance. I’ve had my eye on this bridge for a couple of years and finally made time to pay it a visit.
The Lowry Ave Bridge crosses the Mississippi River north of downtown Minneapolis, and with it’s more contemporary style, is a departure from many of the older stone and metal bridges that span the river in Minneapolis and St. Paul. For more history on this bridge:
I feel that each perspective deserves separate attention and comments. I will be presenting both color and b/w versions of most of the images, you can decide which you prefer.
Through the looking glass, deeper in, layer upon layer.
Much of the western part of the U.S. consists of wide open spaces and driving through these areas exposes the traveler to amazing vistas along the way. I can’t recall how many times we would crest a pass and see nothing but miles and miles of space all the way to the horizon. Then you would climb again and there would be another vista of the road going on for miles and miles to the horizon. Next time I make this trip I intend to stop more often and capture some these amazing vistas.
During my brief visit home this past weekend, my wife and I took a trip up the north shore of Lake Superior to check out the ice formations at Gooseberry Falls and to do a bit of XC skiing. As always, the frozen forms of Gooseberry Falls did not fail to impress, even though it’s obvious that the water levels were not as high as some years when the freezing process began.
After Gooseberry Falls we travel a bit further up the shore to a Superior National Forest ski trail near Tofte. The trails were beautifully groomed and even though it was overcast, the weather perfect for skiing in the woods. The trail system is extensive, I circled the small portion we skied in yellow, but as you can see, there is so much more to explore. After we had skied about half way through the loop, we stopped for a moment to soak in the beauty of where we were. And, as wonderful as the view was, what was really impressive was not what we were seeing, it was what we weren’t hearing. It was totally and completely silent. There was no wind, no birds singing, no traffic, no planes overhead, no other people on this part of the trail…just total quiet. I think we stood there for about ten minutes, listening to absolute silence. I can remember only one other time I’ve experienced this kind of silence. That was also while XC skiing, that time on Lake One outside of Ely, MN. So much of my life is spent in urban areas and even when I escape to nature, it’s usually still too close to the effects of human generated noise. In milder weather there are more bird sounds, the rustle of leaves or perhaps the sound of water running or lapping at the shore. But, in the depths of winter, on a calm day, in a snow softened forest, you can find, “The Silence.”