Monday, March 02, 2009

Edges of March

Bitterly cold yesterday, but the sky was a blue as clear and sharply faceted as a sapphire, and after the cold nights, the deep snow was as hard as old stone and easy to walk on without sinking in.

Water was running freely in the creek below the eastern hill and singing as it tumbled down the gorge toward the still frozen beaver pond on the far side of the Two Hundred Acre Wood.

One's passionately clicking fingers freeze swiftly on such a cold day, but the crystalline ice shapes on the verges of the creek were crying out to be captured for posterity (or more likely just for the doddering photographer), and captured they were - frozen fingers and painful lungs or no.

Returning home, I briefly pondered tinkering with contrast, color balance, resolution and sharpness and decided not to do it - this is what an early March day is like, and it would be an insult to the Old Wild Mother to tart up her creations.

3 comments:

Gera Scott Chandler said...

Thank you again for a beautiful visit. I dropped by to give you the Kreativ Blogger Award. Details are on my blog....

best wishes
gera

Linda G. said...

I've been here for awhile, pouring over every word and every picture several times. Oh, Cate you touch our lives with such beauty....

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