Otter Creek Sunset – A B&W Photo Challenge

Eliza, who shares a similar love for the outdoors as me, and who lives in a similar place but different country invited me to join a black and white photo challenge. Since It’s all in good fun, and since it’s so windy out, I’ve decided to play along. At least once. There are rules, as with any contest/challenge, but I’m not playing by them ;) So, new rules: if my post inspires you to try your hand at a black and white photo when you might otherwise opt to see the world strictly in colors, link it up to this post. If there are multiple participants, I’ll post a future blog shouting out my favorites. Or something.

Without further ado, here’s the photo – perhaps the only one, perhaps just the first – that I chose to convert to black and white. I originally shared it on FB and Flickr in all its peachy sunset-y glory, but decided it had nice enough lines to lend itself to B&W too.  I posted larger versions of each below, which can be further embiggened via a click if you like.

What do you think?

Otter Creek - B&W Otter Creek Sunset

Deeply Ill

In case you’ve forgotten what it’s been like in this part of the world, let me remind you:

frigid Rapid River

That was Thursday morning. Double digits below zero again. But the mercury was on the rise, and threatened to get almost warm. No really – we’ve been expecting 40’s (between 5 and 10 C) and sunny, which I feared would make our ice unsafe for exploration so I did the unthinkable.

On Friday morning, I rose at an indecent hour, and then left the house just a couple minutes too late to catch the moon setting over the west coast in Empire, MI. I remain a touch disappointed about that, but only a little. I had the whole beach very nearly to myself (I wasn’t out on the ice all alone-y on my own-y) for the entire hour and a half I was there.

Although temperatures hovered in the single digits, I was never cold. Being surrounded by such beauty is awe-inspiring, and surreal, and breathtaking. It is invigorating.

The sun rose hot on Friday, and by the time I made it to my running appointment at 10:00 (I’m cleared to ease into running!) it was nearly 20F. I hesitate to speak out of turn, but I think Old Man Winter finally got tired, and went to bed.

good morning sunshine

This morning we woke to brilliant sunshine accompanied by spring-like temperatures. It was still below freezing, but not much. Birds sweetened the air with their songs – and not just one or two birds, but a whole chorus of them.

I’ve removed the fleece lining from my coat, and didn’t make Petey wear his. Speaking of whom, some puppies have a terrible case of spring fever. That little guy practically pranced his way through his morning walk. He sniffed the air and sashayed along the way, not once trying to end the walk early. Then, he begged to go out for an afternoon jaunt. Then, he asked to go for an evening walk.

A stop on our evening walk on Torch Lake in Alden
Torch reflections

And then we walked again during sunset. Since I obliged with every request, I think I must’ve caught it too. Looking at the forecast – which has 50’s in store dontcha know?! – I think I might have a fatal case of spring fever. Quick, no one get some ice! And be careful; I think this strain is highly contagious ;)

Images from tonight’s everlasting sunset. That sun pillar lasted nearly 15 minutes after the sun dipped below the horizon,

Last Call and a PT Update

Heeding Petey’s I’m getting cold signals, we trekked back to the car and got him snuggled down in his blankets with a bowl of kibble and some water. Pup sated and stowed, we hit the road meandering through the Leelanau countryside as we made our way to the Grand Traverse Lighthouse.

By the time we arrived, the world had gone all blue and gold – kind of like that dress only far prettier.
warm and cool palette

Despite its warm color, the sun no longer held much heat, and at the very tip of the peninsula, we were utterly unprotected from the blustery breezes.
out standing in its field hahahaha

Though captivated by the glistening shards of ice and the duo-tone palette, we were cold.
rose ice

We couldn’t quite bring ourselves to leave though. I’d take my last photo, and then Tony would ask where I was going. “Just over to this piece of ice.” You know. That really cool one that’s obviously different from all these other really cool ones.
me as Vanna

I’d finish with my cool ice only to find Tony wasn’t by my side, nor was he walking back to the lighthouse grounds.
ice shards in last light

So it went, until the sun made its last call, and then dipped below the horizon. Still I wanted to stay, but my nearly frost-bitten fingers – like the wind – cried Mary Mercy.
last light


 
I meant to talk to you all last post about my knee and PT (not to be confused with Petey, ahem, Siri). Great news: I’ve been going for one-hour sessions twice a week, and I’ve incorporated as many moves as I can into my at-home workouts. My knee pain isn’t entirely gone, but it’s mostly gone, and when I do feel it, it’s much less intense. Notably, there are times when I move in a way that I fully expect to feel pain, but don’t. That’s my real benchmark for improvement. I have one more appointment on Wednesday, and then a running analysis so that I can start bringing that back into my life. Henceforward (which is a word; I checked), you may call me a PT Evangelist :D

Rediscovering Skegemog

On the last day in November, Tony and I took Petey on a hike at the south end of Lake Skegemog. We had been fairly recently, but the boardwalk was underwater, so we turned back before we got to the viewing platform. After that trip, we decided this one we’d just stick to the old railroad bed. Back in 2010, we discovered a pretty little spot on the lake, and were sure this was the way to get there.As the sky darkened – no sunset this night – we figured we must’ve been mistaken. We did find this cool place, though, and had a nice walk so we were content.

Fast forward to today. Prior to this weekend, the sun’s presence has been scarce in northern Michigan. But we’ve had a fair amount lately, and all day today, the sun shone, begging me to join her outdoors. I finally did late this afternoon.

And wandering around the yard – despite the lovely dripping icicles – just did not satisfy. I consulted The Oracle (google) and her maps, and we set off for what I was sure was our previously discovered paradise on Skegemog.

Unsure of our distance, but sure that we only had about one hour of acceptable hiking light, we struck off at a decent pace. The trek follows a fairly wide, level trail through tall cedars and other evergreens. The path looks tangly, but it isn’t.
evergreen trail in

We arrived to the lake’s edge right at sunset. The southern end is frozen. I’m not sure how thick the ice is. It is both strong enough to support rabbits, as is evidenced by their tracks across the ice, and weak enough that experimentally adding weight (don’t worry – it was only inches deep where I was, and I was supported by one leg on solid ground!) causes interesting/eerie noises along the cracks as the force is distributed across the surface.


We stayed as late as we dared, knowing that we had about 1.5 miles to hike back out.

It wasn’t as dark as they look. I severely underexposed those shots because I liked the way the grasses appeared as silhouettes against that beautiful sky gradient. But, the light was quickly dimming down in the canopy. By the time we arrived back at the car, houses had their outdoor lights on.
dark hike out

We arrived home under the very last light of the sun, and to the glow of our neighbors’ Christmas-y house.

Satisfactory

It rained yesterday. Not very long, but heavily. Piles of sand and detritus litter the erosion-prone parts of the hillside out back. More of the roadside washed away, but I don’t think the county intends to beef up the pavement on that stretch of road.

A Walk in the Park-pano

Before the storms rolled through the air hung thick with humidity and the continuous groan of distant thunder. After, they felt much the same, only hotter with the addition of afternoon sun. How did we ever live in Miami? I wondered. Where every day in the summer was at least ten degrees warmer, but with the same humidity and sunshowers. But then, how do I live here now, with our relatively cool summers and everlasting winters?

By the time evening arrived, some of the air’s moisture had soaked into the ground, and the temperature dropped back into my (current) comfort level. Even as we strolled sedately around the park under vivid skies, I lamented not having my camera perched over the lake.

Are we humans ever satisfied? Sometimes I think not, but I’m working on it, this recognizing when I have enough :)