While it is February, one can taste the full joys of anticipation. Spring stands at the gate with her finger on the latch. ~ Patience Strong
Winifred Emma May (1907 – 1990) was a poet from the United Kingdom, best known for her work under the pen name Patience Strong. Her poems were usually short, simple and imbued with sentimentality, the beauty of nature and inner strength. – Wikipedia
When I found the above quote to accompany today’s photo, I couldn’t help but smile at the author’s pen name. “Patience Strong” is what some of us need to get through the cold and icy month of February. 🙂
“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien
One of my favourite winter snaps. First published here on February 25, 2012.
“Our familiar garden by the sea has transformed . . . each bramble and bush laminated in a thick, crystalline coat, every amber blade dressed in its stiff raiment of frost. With a watchful step, I venture out on the crust of snow.” – Jennifer Kelland Perry, Endless Chill
Spring is a long, drawn-out affair here on the island of Newfoundland.
No matter what the calendar says, we still have to endure the odd snowstorm and it seems to take forever to warm up.
Sleet storms are common. But the next day I take in the results with my camera…
…because when the sun comes out, everything shimmers and glows with a crust of rime.
Tufts of grass lay frozen and still.
harp seal on ice
Silence reigns today because the spring ice is in and the air is calm.
Our “flippery” friend lolls about, basking in the peace and quiet.
(And I do believe I made up a word. 😉 )
Turn that frown upside down!
You are free, little seal. Nothing to hurt you here.
The urge to go outside is intense.
Everything is aglitter, you say, but you see my nose press against the window and the fog of my breath on the cool glass.
You acquiesce. When I step into the wintry air, I wait for a whisper of a moment, then gingerly, silently, push on.
Since my last outdoor foray, our familiar garden by the sea has transformed into an alien, frozen world, gilded with ice. Each bramble and bush laminated in a thick, crystalline coat, every amber blade dressed in its stiff raiment of frost. With a watchful step, I venture out on the crust of snow.
Nothing wiggles in the undergrowth. That is the weird thing. No voles to hunt. No shrews to track. No grass birds to chase. Somewhere, they hide, somewhere, they abide, sequestered away. A vague memory surfaces of another time when the earth, with all its movement and life, lay frozen. Will they return as before?
The wind gusts, my whiskers twitch. You did warn I wouldn’t like it.
My home is filled with warm comforts, flush with love and water and treats and a full bowl of food.
I wonder why I am here in this bleak and boreal netherworld. My paws, by this time, are numbed by the pitiless cold.
Each tender little pad glows bright pink, like frozen raspberries. The bliss and warm embrace of my domestic nest beckons. Despite my feral, tigerish airs, I am not a wild beast.
I have no need to brave the savage bite of winter.
I have had my fill of this endless chill and plod home, eyes on your face, gaze questioning:
Is spring only a rosy dream?
A couple of weeks ago, we weathered yet another “lovely” ice storm. The freezing rain painted every surface with sleet, resulting in slippery walks, treacherous roads, and a thick coat of glittering rime on just about everything. Oh Joy!
Our neighbour’s view of our point of land, with the ocean view lost in the fog beyond
If you’ve never heard about the phenomenon of “ice-fog”, this is what it looks like.
A ghostly mist hangs in the air, glazing everything in a sheet of ice.
I hoped to capture some shots of sunshine on the glitter, but the forecast wasn’t cooperating. Not one to miss an opportunity, however, I headed outside to see what artistry I might find under the heavy grey overcast of gloom.
The scene is still, frozen in windless silence. I find a stalk encased in a shell of ice.
Abandoned clothespins encapsulated on our summer neighbour’s line.
Who knew they would prove useful for this shutterbug?
My ClotheslineA Frozen Bud
Fences are crusted with frost, and icicles trickle in abundance.
A Twig in its Icy Tomb
The fog begins to clear…
…and the clouds lift a little, allowing a few thin milky rays to shine through.
All at once, everything glows with a sparkly sheen…
…and the “batty catters” take on a cold blue tint at the ocean’s edge.
A wide band of slobby ice meanders in the water near the coastline.
Grass that reminds me of glass straws
The opening sky colours our sea blue once again.
So far, we’ve enjoyed countless sunny days and not too much of the white stuff.
But that may be about to change; a winter storm alert is issued for the weekend.
How are you braving the winter?
Are you longing to put this season behind you?
Or are you finding beauty in unexpected places?
The Daily Post challenge for photographers this week is to show three similar images. I came up with two versions from winter and summer here on Perry’s Point.
Ice Storm Aftermath
“Glass” on Grass Glitter-Coated Branches Crunchy Tufts of Grass
Seashells on Rocks
Now that March is marching toward us, this photographer is growing a smidge weary of the snow and ice. Thoughts swing to the anticipation of warm weather and the new life that Spring unfurls. I remember this colony of mollusks, better known as seashells, from last summer.
Shelled mollusks are not the only things living on these rocks. Colonies oftiny, white rock barnacles are everywhere. Barnacles are arthropods, related to crab and lobster.
Shells and BarnaclesYellow Algae Grows Here Too
I’m ready to trade the ice for seashells. Are you?
I have never professed to be a winter-loving person. I don’t ski, skate or snowmobile, and here in Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada, the winter can drag on longer than many of us like.
But it isn’t all bad. I do like to go outdoors on the sunny days for walks, or just to take some pictures of things that catch my fanciful eye. Last week I snapped a few shots of the glittering aftermath of a sleet storm. It is also satisfying to find signs of wildlife…and finding wildlife itself.
(For better viewing, click on the first photo to start the gallery)
But then, as pretty as all this is, my heart is looking forward. It waits patiently, yet eagerly for summer.
Coming soon: Cold and Dreary February? Nahh… Part Two (Indoors)
Jennifer's Journal 