Author: barryhassphoto

Last week a blast of Arctic air froze Ware’s Cove solid, bringing out scores of skaters of all ages – some with two legs, some with four.

Walking in the woods last week, I came across a fallen tree, snagged on a neighbor several feet off the ground. Suspended above the moist, bustling metropolis of the forest floor, the trunk had dried out and cracked open, revealing colors and shapes reminiscent of the canyons of the American West.

*Title of song by the band Chicago (1969)

“So you haven’t understood yet” Rambert shrugged his shoulders almost scornfully.

“Understood what?”

“The plague.”

“Ah!” Rieux exclaimed.

“No, you haven’t understood that it means exactly that – the same thing over and over and over again.”

-from The Plague by Camus

Hopefully by now we have all accepted the necessity of wearing masks. But that doesn’t mean we have to like them. Though I have to admit, since the onset of winter, I’ve been enjoying that they keep my nose warm. Still, there’s this other problem that no amount of adjustment seems to fix.

Pine needles, fallen leaves, and thin shards of ice created this abstract pattern on the forest floor.

Christmas brought warm, soaking rains, washing away last week’s snow and leaving the fields behind our house spongy and dotted with shallow pools. Late the next day, the water reflected the moon rising in a clear sky, and naked trees painted orange by the setting sun.

The end of a winter afternoon.

Snow laden trees seem to be bowing down to a regal swan gliding down the river, looking very much like the Queen of Winter making her entrance.

Don’t let the light go out.

Out for a walk on a gray day, this splash of color clinging to a tree caught my eye.