Golden Hour

The Golden Hour, when the hues of the setting sun make for rich colors across the landscape for the mesmerized observer or photographer. Actually it is nowhere near an hour. It is a fleeting, golden moment.

Such was the occasion outside my window on a stormy January 23rd, 2024. The gray sky dominated all day with sullen and dramatic clouds letting loose their precipitation. The clouds hung low. The sun hurried west in these winter days of abbreviated sunlight. The sun sunk below the clouds, shooting warm hued rays under and between the occluding cumulous clouds and illuminated the naked limbs of the cottonwood grove across the field from my window view. It was a study in contrasts; fiery, glowing trees set against dull, grey skies. It was golden.

To everything there is a season, and in this season of darkness it is a welcomed sight to catch a golden moment as the sun settles over the horizon.

Sharing some of the fleeting golden joys of life on The Pilchuck.

Blessing of Beauty

January 19th, 2024; I lift my eyes toward the east in the fading light and receive a blessing

The previous week of unrelenting sub-freezing temperatures accentuated by a flurry of snowflakes and sleet gave way to warming temperatures and the rain, typical of the Pacific Northwest mid-winter.

There was a break in the day's rain as the sun slipped low in the western wood. The sun's rays slipped a peek under Mother Nature's gray skirted rain showers. Looking east in the fading light, I was given a sign of a blessing. I thought this was too fine of a moment not to share.

The palette out my window; gold-tipped bare branches of cottonwood, the deep green shadows of hemlock, fir and cedar against the heavens of smudged, moist gray swept over breaking blue. Then comes a brilliant streak beaming with all the colors in the spectrum. 

On the afternoon of 19 January, 2024 - Welcome to my world. 

 

A Walk in My Winter Woods

Sweeping in from the arctic north, clear, cold air, settled upon my woodland home.

My water well froze as the frigid air mass sat upon Western Washington for several days. I was without water for two-and-a-half days. Along with the unexpected inconvenience, I found beauty in the flooded bottomlands in my back 40 acres. This flood chute feature of Pilchuck Creek, colloquially known as the Duck Pond, extended across my woodland trail after days of rain and then froze. 

Fantastic ice patterns formed among the ferns and mosses, wrapping their frozen contour lines around tree trunks, snags and sticks. Once I thawed my water pump and took my first hot shower, I was delighted to capture the concentric lines of graceful beauty etched by Jack Frost on the forest floor.

Flooded Duck Pond ice patterns are drawn by Jack Frost deep in the forest

Layered channels woven into the ice

Mesmerized by swirling patterns that form around the pole    

Concentric rings reach out from bank

An Ice Eye looks northward

Frozen traces amaze me

A snag acts a the nucleus for a crystalline circle dance