Fog on the First of October

On my way to the Pumpkin Fest, I saw the fog and knew there would be picture taking opportunites. Nothing else needs to be said: "Let the fog in and the sun will create beauty."

Really?

When I got up this morning (at 5:30 a.m. on my day off) and saw all the heavy wet snow weighing down the pine branches and sticking to the leafless trees, I thought it may make for a photo worthy morning. But, as I sat in the old lazy boy sipping my tea and watching "Sweet 16" on MTV, I realized the sun was in no mood to help sparkle the snow, so we both lazied our Saturday morning. While doing what I do and googling to help wake up my mind, the fog decided to lend a hand and change up my photography expectations. I geared up in double fleece, opted for jeans rather than pajama pants and, with fingerless gloves on and camera in hand, ventured an early moring walk (definitely not usually a choice I make).

Just me, the trees, the breeze and the birds, I experienced a full sensory morning. Thunump, thunump as the snow slid off the branches and joined the layer on the ground. Cherurp, caw, cherurp, caw, caw as the birds all awakened to a hazy morning with all there green taken back. Spleoop, spleoop---spleoop, spleoop as my boots hit warm pavement under melting slushy snow. Hu-ho, hu-ho, hu-ho as I huffed on my trek back to the house, and realized I am quite out of shape thanks to an extra long winter.

Finger tips frozen and a caterpillar shocked by a fall from a snowy tree branch, I share with you my end-of April U.P. morning. If I was a fist shaker, I'd be shaking it at the weather man who forecasted 60 degrees and sunny tomorrow.

In the Land of Ice Fairies

Waking up this morning, between rubbing my eyes into focus and inwardly debating between coffee or tea for my morning caffeine, I peeked out the kitchen window to see an amazing show thanks to the play between frosty tree tips and the rising sun. All of the landscape seemed taken out of a classically illustrated children's book. Elegantly detailed.

With pajama pants on, hoodie zipped, and hat pulled down over my ears, I ran out to click here and there. These mornings are worth the winter cold, and seemingly never ending season. I won't get to see frost like this on a July morning, even here in the U.P. (at least I think so).