Road Along the Ridge

Forest Fog

 

Spring is taking it’s time getting here, like it lost its way, stumbling about.
Mornings are cold and damp. Not really raining; just steady dripping from eaves and limbs, buds closed up tight. Hills and valleys stay swallowed in fog.

 

 

Snowy Hills

Morning Snow on the HIlls

 

Snowed last night.

It’s funny, the hills and Blue Ridge spend all year a hazy blue-grey – sometimes more grey, sometimes more blue. There’s a brief period on clear days in Spring when they’re mottled greens, and in the fall there’s a week or so when they’re rusty. But after fresh snow is when they suddenly stand up and want to be noticed.

 

Treeline, Old Field

 

 

Ice

Ice Storm

 

First mark of Winter.

In just a week or so, a flock of robins will be here, and will spend a few days stripping the Holly tree of berries. They’ll start at the top and slowly work their way down, leaving no berries behind. Then they’ll leave.

But for now, the berries are glazed with ice.

Continue reading “Ice”

Winter Sky

Heading Home

Days grow longer by increments now. Light, gaining strength, lingers on the rim of hills a bit longer each evening, before slipping back down to black. Some nights the twilight spreads all the way around the horizon, like a red hem on winter‘s star-sequined gown.

Took some photos on the way home, shivering, so cold I couldn’t feel my finger on the shutter.

Continue reading “Winter Sky”