Location Coordinates:
44°55'49"N,
93°17'35"W
Lyndale Farmstead Park
Minneapolis, MN
A white Christmas was something I never experienced growing up in southern California. We were sometimes treated to wet Christmases, or maybe a windy Christmas, but never a white Christmas. Snow was an exotic substance that you saw glistening on the mountains as you stood in the valley below. Occasionally our family would pack up the car and drive up to places like Wrightwood, Lake Arrowhead, or Big Bear to play in the snow. We pulled on three or four pairs of socks and doubled up on sweaters under an overcoat, grabbed our little round sleds, packed a lunch with a thermos of hot chocolate, and headed up for adventure. My dad battled bumper to bumper traffic as all the "flatlanders" from the LA basin trekked up the mountain roads to throw snowballs at each other and skim down the icy hills on various forms of sliding contraptions. Looking back, it really was a lot of work to pull off a little winter entertainment.
Now I'm a Minnesotan, and snow is no longer exotic. It arrives in November and doesn't depart until March or April. But I still have an appreciation for its beauty and all the fun winter activities it enables. And having a fun snow adventure is a whole lot easier now than needing to drive to a distant mountain locale with lots of other people. Now I simply throw on my coat and snow pants and head out for cross country skiing, snowshoeing, or ice fishing. Or, I can simply walk across the street to an ideal sledding hill. Area residents flock to Lyndale Farmstead Park as soon as the first flakes fly to glide down a perfect bowl-shaped slope. No traffic, no long lines for a ski lift, just the simple good times of a toboggan and a hill. It is a little bit of Currier & Ives viewed right out of my kitchen window.
The year 2010 will be ending in just a few hours, and I'm very excited about my plans for photographic activities in 2011. It is going to be a great year. Stay tuned!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Lake Harriet Ice Over
Location Coordinates:
44°55'17"N, 93°18'19"W
Lake Harriet
Minneapolis, Minnesota
After a much warmer than average early November, our first major snowfall occurred on November 13th. I missed this event; I was basking in the warm 75+ degree temperatures of late fall in southern California on that day. When I returned to Minnesota a week later on the 20th, I was thrust abruptly into winter with a fifty-degree temperature drop coupled with freezing rain which glazed the roads and turned the remnants of the first snow into something akin to concrete. My favorite season had definitely vanished while I was out of town, and winter was robustly announcing its arrival in the upper Midwest.
The first ice I noticed on Lake Harriet was the day after Thanksgiving as my daughter and I walked around the lakeshore working off those extra holiday calories. A rugged ice shelf of about twenty yards had extended from shore towards the center of the lake. Where solid ice met water, jagged ice chunks bobbed about, which gave off a sound similar to a giant punchbowl filled with ice being rocked back and forth. But a late-November warm up quickly dissipated much of this initial icing.
December roared in with another sharp blast of cold, and by the time I walked around the lake on December 2nd a much smoother, clear sheet of ice was setting up across the lake's surface. As in the spring when the ice broke, I became captivated by the sounds coming from this new ice. As newly formed ice sections moved and grinded into each other the lake sounded as if it was groaning. It was eerie hearing these strange noises emanating from such a familiar place, but at the same time it was completely fascinating.
What a difference five days can make in the life of a lake. By the time I next ventured to the lakeshore on December 7th it had completely frozen over. Granted, the ice crust was dangerously thin, but all the same it is amazing that such a large body of water can freeze over in a relatively short period. So now the pretty lake, so active with sailboats in the warmer months, has transitioned to a solid field of white upon which cross-country skiers will glide and winter festival-goers will tread. And so it goes - one season to the next . .
44°55'17"N, 93°18'19"W
Lake Harriet
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Earlier this year I wrote about the annual event known as Ice Out, which is the date our lakes become ice free in the spring. Each of Minnesota's thousands of lakes has its own Ice Out date depending upon the characteristics of the lake in question. It stands to reason, then, that each lake also has an Ice Over date in the winter - the date the surface of the lake obtains a solid frozen covering from shore to shore. This year I wasn't able to pinpoint the exact Ice Over date for my local lake, but it was achieved sometime between December 2nd and December 7th.
The first ice I noticed on Lake Harriet was the day after Thanksgiving as my daughter and I walked around the lakeshore working off those extra holiday calories. A rugged ice shelf of about twenty yards had extended from shore towards the center of the lake. Where solid ice met water, jagged ice chunks bobbed about, which gave off a sound similar to a giant punchbowl filled with ice being rocked back and forth. But a late-November warm up quickly dissipated much of this initial icing.
December roared in with another sharp blast of cold, and by the time I walked around the lake on December 2nd a much smoother, clear sheet of ice was setting up across the lake's surface. As in the spring when the ice broke, I became captivated by the sounds coming from this new ice. As newly formed ice sections moved and grinded into each other the lake sounded as if it was groaning. It was eerie hearing these strange noises emanating from such a familiar place, but at the same time it was completely fascinating.
What a difference five days can make in the life of a lake. By the time I next ventured to the lakeshore on December 7th it had completely frozen over. Granted, the ice crust was dangerously thin, but all the same it is amazing that such a large body of water can freeze over in a relatively short period. So now the pretty lake, so active with sailboats in the warmer months, has transitioned to a solid field of white upon which cross-country skiers will glide and winter festival-goers will tread. And so it goes - one season to the next . . Tuesday, November 30, 2010
I'm still here . . .
OK - so it has been a whole month since I've published a new blog entry. November turned out to be a hectic month with a family emergency, unplanned travel, and then the Thanksgiving holiday. December looks to be a bit less crazy so I hope to get a few Holiday season postings out here soon.
After a very warm start in early November, the weather has turned the other way and is now well below seasonal averages here in Minneapolis. There is snow on the ground with the prospect of more to come, which sets the stage for interesting winter weather photography. I'll get out there soon and see what I can find.
After a very warm start in early November, the weather has turned the other way and is now well below seasonal averages here in Minneapolis. There is snow on the ground with the prospect of more to come, which sets the stage for interesting winter weather photography. I'll get out there soon and see what I can find.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Head of the Charles
Location coordinates:
42°22'11"N,
71°07'23"W
Boston/Cambridge, Massachusetts
A little more than ten years ago I began what could be described as an obsession with the city of Boston. My first trip to The Hub (one of Boston's nicknames) was a three-hour stopover during a southern New England excursion Chrys and I made in 1987. My second visit was a fairly stressful business junket there in 1996. But these brief early trips planted the seed, and from late 1999 on we have traveled to Boston several times each year, and even lived there in 2008/2009 prior to our move to Minnesota. I've now spent so much time in Boston that I will always consider the city my second home. While living there during the fall of 2008 we were looking for things to do during a visit by our daughter Rachel. Chrys noted the Head of the Charles Rowing Regatta was scheduled that weekend and was to be held on the Charles River near the Harvard campus. As that was close to home, and thinking that activity would represent a perfect New England experience, we decided to check it out. We ended up having such a great time that we now have made the regatta an annual tradition, even though we have never participated in organized rowing ourselves. This past weekend marked our third Head of the Charles Regatta.
Rowing teams from all over the world participate in the event on the Charles River, which delineates Cambridge on the north bank and Boston on the south bank. Individual and team participants come from high school and collegiate crew teams as well as private rowing clubs. Competitors range in age from youth to athletes in their 80s. The bulk of the action takes place in and around the John W. Weeks bridge, a footbridge which links Harvard's main campus in Cambridge with the Harvard Business School and athletic facilities which lie on the Boston side of the river. It is a festive atmosphere with booths selling crew-themed apparel and food along the river banks where spectators cheer on their favorites. The setting can't be beat: rowers skimming over the river against a backdrop of Cambridge's colonial-era architecture, fall-colored trees, tasty "fair food", and crisp autumn air.
The sights off the water are often as interesting as those on the water. Groups of dapper English rowers decked out in their very British navy rowing blazers mix with American college groups in their team sweatshirts. Well-dressed Ivy League alumni cheer their school teams alongside average Joe spectators like me with no particular team affiliation. This year one of the more interesting non-rowing sights was the imaginative way one particular bicyclist found to secure his or her bike high above the crowds. I wonder how he or she was able to hold that bike aloft while securing it to the tree??
The Head of the Charles Regatta is just one of the events that keep me traveling back to Boston on a regular basis. I'm always happy when I'm there, and I'll likely write about many more of my favorite Boston "latitudes" in posts to come.
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| Rowers in front of the Newell Boat House |
42°22'11"N,
71°07'23"W
Boston/Cambridge, Massachusetts
A little more than ten years ago I began what could be described as an obsession with the city of Boston. My first trip to The Hub (one of Boston's nicknames) was a three-hour stopover during a southern New England excursion Chrys and I made in 1987. My second visit was a fairly stressful business junket there in 1996. But these brief early trips planted the seed, and from late 1999 on we have traveled to Boston several times each year, and even lived there in 2008/2009 prior to our move to Minnesota. I've now spent so much time in Boston that I will always consider the city my second home. While living there during the fall of 2008 we were looking for things to do during a visit by our daughter Rachel. Chrys noted the Head of the Charles Rowing Regatta was scheduled that weekend and was to be held on the Charles River near the Harvard campus. As that was close to home, and thinking that activity would represent a perfect New England experience, we decided to check it out. We ended up having such a great time that we now have made the regatta an annual tradition, even though we have never participated in organized rowing ourselves. This past weekend marked our third Head of the Charles Regatta.
Rowing teams from all over the world participate in the event on the Charles River, which delineates Cambridge on the north bank and Boston on the south bank. Individual and team participants come from high school and collegiate crew teams as well as private rowing clubs. Competitors range in age from youth to athletes in their 80s. The bulk of the action takes place in and around the John W. Weeks bridge, a footbridge which links Harvard's main campus in Cambridge with the Harvard Business School and athletic facilities which lie on the Boston side of the river. It is a festive atmosphere with booths selling crew-themed apparel and food along the river banks where spectators cheer on their favorites. The setting can't be beat: rowers skimming over the river against a backdrop of Cambridge's colonial-era architecture, fall-colored trees, tasty "fair food", and crisp autumn air.
The sights off the water are often as interesting as those on the water. Groups of dapper English rowers decked out in their very British navy rowing blazers mix with American college groups in their team sweatshirts. Well-dressed Ivy League alumni cheer their school teams alongside average Joe spectators like me with no particular team affiliation. This year one of the more interesting non-rowing sights was the imaginative way one particular bicyclist found to secure his or her bike high above the crowds. I wonder how he or she was able to hold that bike aloft while securing it to the tree??
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| Competing rowers against the Boston skyline |
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
The Brief and Brilliant Season
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| Minnesota Landscape Arboretum |
Multiple in Minnesota,
Connecticut, and
Massachusetts
Autumn. What a great time of year. Hot weather has melted away into cool, crisp mornings. The angle of the sun shifts, casting a softer, warmer glow over the landscape. A walk around the neighborhood can find you caught up in a blizzard of leaves coming down in a fresh breeze. Apple orchards fill with families seeking hay rides followed by cups of hot cider and warm apple pie with cinnamon ice cream. Gourds and pumpkins, football teams and baseball playoffs, sweatshirts and sweaters. It is the calm and beautiful season before the rush and thrill of the Holidays.
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| Maple leaves, Norfolk, Connecticut |
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| Along Route 23, western Massachusetts |
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| White birch, Finlayson, Minnesota |
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| St. Croix River near Stillwater, Minnesota |
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Great Inland Port
Location coordinates:
46°46'48"N,
92°05'28W
Canal Park
Feeling the need for a "big lake fix" along the shore of Lake Superior, I drove north the other day with the goal of not only taking in my favorite lake, but also enjoying some fall leaf-peeping. Seasonal color north of the Twin Cities is typically at its best in late September and early October. The reds, oranges and yellows were at or near peak on this particular day, which made the drive up Interstate 35 especially pleasing. The scenery was brilliant as I dropped down into Duluth, where I-35 transitions to scenic Highway 61 which follows the Lake Superior shoreline on up to the Canadian border. In previous journeys north my impression of Duluth was that it was simply a hurdle to get through on my way to more interesting places further north. Turns out I was wrong. This trip I decided to park and have a look around, and I'm very glad I did.
After scouring the car to find enough change to feed the parking meter, I found my way to a pedestrian boardwalk and bike path that followed the lakeshore. I had a choice to make: walk west toward downtown or east toward the canal and Aerial Lift Bridge and Canal Park. I decided to first investigate downtown. Duluth is located at the westernmost point of Lake Superior, and there is a steep shift in elevation from the lake to the inland area. Geographically speaking, it reminded me of a stadium with rows and aisles (street grids) rising up and away from a playing field (downtown and the lakefront). Many of the residential neighborhoods are blessed with impressive views of the lake as they ascend from the downtown core. Perhaps these grand views are of some consolation to residents who must endure the biting winter chill of one of America's most vigorous climates!
After admiring the interesting architecture downtown, I returned to the lakefront boardwalk and walked east toward Canal Park, named for the canal that allows ships to pass from the lake into the port. Once an industrial and warehouse district, this region has now been converted into a vibrant tourist and entertainment destination with pleasant lakefront hotels and numerous restaurants. My stroll eventually led me down a breakwater to the North Pierhead Lighthouse, where I was rewarded with a front row seat to observe a huge freighter as it passed through the canal on its way out into Lake Superior.
46°46'48"N,
92°05'28W
Canal Park
Duluth, Minnesota
Feeling the need for a "big lake fix" along the shore of Lake Superior, I drove north the other day with the goal of not only taking in my favorite lake, but also enjoying some fall leaf-peeping. Seasonal color north of the Twin Cities is typically at its best in late September and early October. The reds, oranges and yellows were at or near peak on this particular day, which made the drive up Interstate 35 especially pleasing. The scenery was brilliant as I dropped down into Duluth, where I-35 transitions to scenic Highway 61 which follows the Lake Superior shoreline on up to the Canadian border. In previous journeys north my impression of Duluth was that it was simply a hurdle to get through on my way to more interesting places further north. Turns out I was wrong. This trip I decided to park and have a look around, and I'm very glad I did.
After scouring the car to find enough change to feed the parking meter, I found my way to a pedestrian boardwalk and bike path that followed the lakeshore. I had a choice to make: walk west toward downtown or east toward the canal and Aerial Lift Bridge and Canal Park. I decided to first investigate downtown. Duluth is located at the westernmost point of Lake Superior, and there is a steep shift in elevation from the lake to the inland area. Geographically speaking, it reminded me of a stadium with rows and aisles (street grids) rising up and away from a playing field (downtown and the lakefront). Many of the residential neighborhoods are blessed with impressive views of the lake as they ascend from the downtown core. Perhaps these grand views are of some consolation to residents who must endure the biting winter chill of one of America's most vigorous climates!
![]() |
| Duluth North Pierhead Lighthouse |
All in all, I was quite pleasantly surprised by what I found in Duluth, and my three hour diversion served to favorably alter my impression of the city. Knowing now what Duluth has to offer I'll be less inclined to simply blow through town on my way up the north shore of Superior.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Butterflies and Fountains
Location coordinates:
44°55'39"N, 93°17'45"W
Lyndale Park
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I live in a wondrous place. I can look out the window of my upstairs home office and see Lyndale Farmstead Park across the street to the north. There is the beautiful and historic Lakewood Cemetery across the street to the west. And just a block to the south lies yet another park, Lyndale Park, that features a rose garden, a perennial garden, a peace garden, and a bird sanctuary. Walking or biking through Lyndale Park brings you to the eastern shore of Lake Harriet, of which I've made several earlier blog entries. This collection of wonderment literally steps from my front door is my home base, and it provides a terrific venue for a new photographer to practice.
A few days ago I ventured out during the hour just prior to sunset to capture the warm end-of-day lighting. My goal was to photograph a bench that sets off by itself. I love photographing benches, and this particular bench has caught my eye many times during the year, as it seems to provide a serene setting in which to gaze off toward two large maple trees currently dawning their vivid red colors of the season. When I arrived at the bench, however, the lighting angle simply wasn't complimentary enough to the scene to produce the type of shot I desired. So I wandered off in another direction looking for anything else of interest. As luck would have it, a perky little monarch butterfly was kind enough to pose for a few shots.
Given the fact it was near to sundown, the mosquitoes were on the prowl. Although I had prepared by dousing myself in insect repellent, I observed a small squadron of the pests making their way my direction and I didn't want to take any chances. I left Madame Butterfly behind and walked toward the rose and perennial gardens. The next thing to catch my eye was the Phelps Fountain, one of two historic fountains located in the gardens. It occurred to me that very soon these fountains will literally be enclosed in a plywood housing to protect them from the cold winter weather. This fact made me appreciate the water patterns shimmering in the setting sun all the more.
While taking in the charm of the fountain I felt that always-annoying piercing itch of a mosquito who had managed to penetrate the defense barrier of the bug repellent. I decided it was best to pack up the tripod and head for home. As I did I looked around and considered the fact that within the next few weeks the gardens will end their season and the Minneapolis Parks staff would be packing the rose bushes in a thick layer of leaves as protection from snow and ice. The parks will take on a whole different look, and I'll be there to capture it all.
44°55'39"N, 93°17'45"W
Lyndale Park
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I live in a wondrous place. I can look out the window of my upstairs home office and see Lyndale Farmstead Park across the street to the north. There is the beautiful and historic Lakewood Cemetery across the street to the west. And just a block to the south lies yet another park, Lyndale Park, that features a rose garden, a perennial garden, a peace garden, and a bird sanctuary. Walking or biking through Lyndale Park brings you to the eastern shore of Lake Harriet, of which I've made several earlier blog entries. This collection of wonderment literally steps from my front door is my home base, and it provides a terrific venue for a new photographer to practice.
A few days ago I ventured out during the hour just prior to sunset to capture the warm end-of-day lighting. My goal was to photograph a bench that sets off by itself. I love photographing benches, and this particular bench has caught my eye many times during the year, as it seems to provide a serene setting in which to gaze off toward two large maple trees currently dawning their vivid red colors of the season. When I arrived at the bench, however, the lighting angle simply wasn't complimentary enough to the scene to produce the type of shot I desired. So I wandered off in another direction looking for anything else of interest. As luck would have it, a perky little monarch butterfly was kind enough to pose for a few shots.
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| Phelps Fountain |
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| Phelps Fountain |
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