Photographs from a Bloy in Wisconsin
While I do love the change of seasons in Wisconsin, the loss of daylight this time of the year is aspect of the change I dislike the most. I can take the cold, I actually like the snow, but the extended hours of darkness are the worst. The sun goes down about 4:30pm these days — too early for me.
I don’t have an answer, but if these guys figured anything out, I certainly hope they let the rest of us know.
Sure, the snow looks beautiful when it’s freshly fallen.
But after a few weeks, the piles of snow along the driveways and roads start to look pretty ugly.
So far, about 12 inches of snow has fallen at my house during today’s blizzard (and it’s still coming down). All the disruptions that occur during a major winter storm can be a real pain (and sometimes dangerous). I must admit, I complain about having to shovel heavy, wet snow. But it really does make things look beautiful. This was the scene as I walked out of my side door this afternoon.
I wish we could have the beauty without all of the aching backs and other nasty things.
Yesterday evening, I biked to Tenney Park to watch the sunset. I hung around a bit after the sun dropped below the horizon, and started to head home.
Two blocks away from the lake shore, I noticed the light show above was still peaking. I got off my bike, and took a few more shots by the lagoon.
If the milkweed plant were human, would it let the wind carry away all of its hopes and dreams so easily?
The warmest heatwave of the summer so far has just begun. Rather than get all sweaty by shooting some pictures outside, I decided to keep cool by staying in and looking though some winter photos. Wouldn’t a seat on this bench feel good right now?
While I was along the Mississippi River, I noticed a very large piece of driftwood passing by.
I wondered how far north it was when it fell into the river. Where is it now?
Some trees always seem to be reaching higher. Over the years they continue to strive for heights not yet attained. They wait patiently through cold winters, and resume their hard work again in spring — always keeping their focus on that goal of growing bigger.
The next time I think giving up would be easy but not the best choice, I?m going to remember this tree.
What is it about trains that we find so fascinating? Even when I see empty tracks I’m compelled to wonder (and take a photo). Where to they lead? What’s around the bend?
