Springtime – a season of change, a season of hope, and a season of color.  I’ve always looked forward to spring and its warmth and beauty.  In Minnesota spring seems to condense and then open up all in a small time period.  It’s as if you can literally watch the grass become green and the leaves pop out from the buds on the trees.  Everything draws deep into the color palettes as Mother Nature wakes up from winter.  One of my favorite flowers are tulips with all their styles and hues, colors and textures.  They are the precursor to the abundance of late spring and summer and all the rich colors that follow.  On a dreary day they can be the one bright spot in the garden.  And on a sunny day they glow as their colors are set off by the warmth and brilliance of the sun.

As we are all social distancing and staying at home, our world is dominated by our views looking out.  Many of us have become observers of the transition of seasons, the angle of the sun coming through our windows, and our neighbors that pass by walking their dogs.  It’s good to look out to recognize and confirm that winter moves into spring, the sun continues to rise, and our neighbors are still in our neighborhood.  That’s what gives us a sense of normalcy in these uncertain times.

This photo takes a different approach and looks inside from the outside.  The sunlight streams through the window, lighting the vase amidst the darkness behind it.  Shadows are created across the curtain by the window frame.  The lace is delicate and beautiful, set off against the coarse texture of the wall.  Perhaps our inside worlds are just as beautiful now as the outside world, if we take a moment to observe and appreciate where we are at this moment and what surrounds us.

We have transitioned from fall to winter quickly.  The colors are gone, the air is cold, and the landscape is very neutral.  How quickly I’m missing the yellows, golds, reds, and deep burgundies that we experienced just a few short weeks ago!  The waters are already beginning to ice up and we have seen snow although it has not stayed.  Yet.  I needed one more post with brilliant colors before I could put fall behind me.

The nights have a bit of coolness to them now, and the sunshine isn’t quite as hot as it was earlier this month.  Our daylight is becoming noticeably shorter as we move closer to fall.  The skies are filled with Canada geese flying over, strengthening the wings of the young ones as they prepare for migrating south; their honking fills the air.  I noticed these sedum blossoms the other day with spots of color in them.  They too are responding to the fast approaching change in the seasons.

We are experiencing our transition season as winter slowly gives way to spring.  In northern Minnesota and Wisconsin it means give and take –  warmer temps one day and snow the next.  But our waters are starting to thaw, allowing open water for the birds that are beginning to migrate into the area.  The oak trees are holding onto their rust-colored leaves, and the air has been heavy with moisture creating some foggy conditions.  It almost seems like fall but this time we know there will be green in the landscape and ice-free lakes and ponds soon.

Last week I celebrated what now seems to have been a colorful flourish to the end of summer.  I sent some time at the McNeely Conservatory in Como Park.  The sunken garden was filled with its summer flowers, scents, and  colors.  Since that day our weather has been gray, cloudy, rainy, and much cooler — anything but summer-like.  How lucky I was to have soaked up the last bright colors of summer!

The seasons move quickly from spring into summer and this year seems to have moved faster than normal.  Everything has turned to a beautiful bright green — the color of new growth, late spring, and early summer.  We’ve had enough rain to keep things fresh and the heat hasn’t set in yet.  This graceful fern was backlit in the garden, accentuating each leaf and its lovely color.  Its beauty was stunning, and I also know it will be fleeting as the green will become darker and not nearly as bright.  It’s a reminder to me to appreciate the season and the time we’re in now as it changes ever-so-quickly and what we see today will not be the same tomorrow.

The cusps of seasons and days can often hold tension and beauty.  We woke to the sound of thunder as a storm was starting to roll through, yet the eastern horizon held a hint of color.  As the rain started to come down, I could see the droplets hitting the open water.  Further out on the lake was the edge of the black ice that was starting to go out, and on the opposite shore was the white ice and snow that hadn’t thinned yet.  It was a wonderful experience – both visual and auditory.  The loons are back in the area, and  the geese, ducks, and swans were all contributing to the soundtrack.

In my own life there is a change too, as I retired from my corporate job and am transitioning to the adventures I’ve been looking forward to all these years.  I began this blog in January of 2009 with the purpose of sharing the beauty of my world and to give me the incentive to photograph each week.  And what an amazing journey it has been — so many sights, so many surprises, and so much to see!  My plan is to continue this blog however my posts may not be quite as consistent in timing.  I hope you will continue along with me and share in my upcoming adventures.

 

We are seeing the start of our spring thaw.  Warmer temps and bright sunshine have had a significant impact on our snow pack.  Slowly we are seeing brown lawns reappear and some garden beds have small green shoots near the ground.  The lakes have a much longer way to go before they are clear of ice.  Gradually the ice near the shoreline goes out, but still the lake has a good 12 inches of ice.  The snow on the surface has become mushy and uneven, and eventually will melt completely.  The silence of winter is also giving way to the sounds of spring.  When I walked out onto the lake I could actually hear the snow melting, and high overhead the Canada geese, the ducks, the swans, and the sandhill cranes were all calling and honking.

We are in the middle of the transition from fall to winter in Minnesota, and Mother Nature has her own agenda.  With fall colors still evident, we had two quick snowfalls.  We love the four distinct seasons we have, yet we can be confused when the boundaries are blurred.  My neighbors have a beautiful euonymus tree in their front yard.  Its leaves are a wonderful pinkish-red in fall, and yet this week the branches were covered with snow.  The white made the leaves glow a bit brighter, and contrasted them to the more usual golds and browns that were scattered on the sidewalk below.  The wetness of the snow had its affect on the leaves; the next day the tree was bare and the ground was dappled with red.