It was another warm and clear morning today – a lot more wind, though. And hey, walking the trail without my Carhartts on was an absolute breeze!
(See what I did there?)
The sunrise was a bit bland, but it’s always lovely seeing the sun and feeling the warmth – even if it’s too early in the season for the light to be appreciably higher in temperature than the winter sun. The path was treacherous, though – melting ice and snow from yesterday coated and filled in all the rough edges of the trail, creating an ice sheet stretching from the beginning of the trail to the top of the stairs – and the steep hill wasn’t much better, though walking on the frost-edged grasses was nowhere near as bad.
The best part of the morning came on the trip back home, though.
Snowmelt in the ditches is often deceptive. It flows and hides under a crust of wind-driven and -hardened snow, and if you’re foolish enough to walk on it, you can never know when the crust will break and send you plunging into icy water. And the depth can be anything from ankle deep to all the way up your chest.
But the flakes of ice on the surface were just so very pretty, sparkling and shining in the morning sun. So I stopped the truck and took out the camera.
I didn’t quite get the shot I wanted, but I collected a great story that gave me an idea for a new journal – “My Photography Adventures,” where a photographer can record the tale behind a picture, rather than the dry facts of the photo itself – camera settings, time of day, location, such like that.