Ice

The recent cold spell caught me unprepared for the many photo opportunities it offered; the day after I noticed the shimmering sheath of frost on the branches along the path leading to One Mile, the snow commenced and fell until the branches bent and shed their glory. (Fortunately, the feathery frost world has captured my attention many times in the past when I did have a camera ready.)

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In typical Pemberton fashion, snow wiped out the skating rink on the lake just when the word was getting out that the ice was getting thick enough. The day after we got our big snowfall, some wonderful teenagers were out on the lake with shovels trying to reclaim the rink; alas the snow continued.

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Over the years, I recall a few with reliable skating periods. Clifford Ronayne used to make a rink on his property and we would spend afternoons and evenings there in the sixties and maybe even into the seventies.

One spectacular February, after a rainfall then a hard freeze, we were able to puddle jump and ditch dance our way all the way down to Ryan Creek bridge on patches of ice and soaked snow. This same season, we took to skate skiing with our downhill ski gear; the snow was deep enough that we cleared the fences and the crust on the snow easily held us. It must have been hard work but all I remember was the feeling of freedom at being able to roam wherever we wanted across the fields.

A few years ago, there wasn’t much snow and all the lakes and ponds froze to glass; there were galaxies of air bubbles trapped within the ice and I spent several hours down on my knees with my macro lens trying to capture the prisms of light.

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These days, I continue to look for the magic creations preserved in the ice and snow and if the weather cooperates and I have my camera with me, it doesn’t take long to find images for my Christmas cards.

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