Frosted Trees
Though the air temp is -15 degrees F the water is still flowing over the dam. It kicks up a mist that drifts down across the trees freezing on the barren branches. As the sun bursts through the trees on the far side of the pond it catches the coating and sets it aglow. The brilliant contrast against the clear blue sky is a glory to behold. Usually a favorite spot for local fisherfolk the persistent snow fall has blanketed their paths and only faint suggestions exist in the unbroken snow.

Through the Mist
In the air that served as the no-mans land in the classic battle between the relatively warm water and the below zero air a heavy mist enshrouded the dam and pond. The ice encrusted sentry on the water's edge seem to ensnare the sun as it burst from the trees across the dam pond. The clouds and the mist formed a halo about the tree that lit up as the sun squirmed her way free, declaring her victory over the frigid darkness.

The Beckoning Track (portrait)
The winter of 2013-2014 has been a snowmobilers dream. After a warm relatively snow-less one the year before, this one saw snow on the ground from before Thanksgiving through the end of February when this was shot. The trails are nicely groomed and the guttural snarl of the sleds is usually an ongoing soundtrack over the Lakes and Trails of the North Country. However, at 7AM as the new day burst over the treeline it is peaceful and calm. The frigid arctic below-zero air precludes any blurring of the crisp well ridden track. This was shot at trailhead at Gotham Park.

Ducks In the Mist
While the rest of the waterfowl have all migrated to warmer climes these hearty Mallards tenaciously cling to their kingdom. Just down from the dam the water stays open even in the most brutal weather. A local resident feeds them daily and they have lost a lot of their fear of man. At dawn they are already on the move drifting in and out of the mist like wraiths feeding among the ice floes and doing their daily ablutions.

Wisconsin - Blue on blue
At 15 below the snow growls like styrofoam, only in the dead of winter can you walk to the middle of the lake and catch the sun as it first snaps over the horizon. It is eeriely silent only the faint moaning of a suggestive wind, if there were strong gusts it would be unbearable, the snow sparkles with flashes of 3D glory the camera feebily captures, the instant when gossamer glory is impaled by the first rays is fleeting and never fails to take breath away