The muted colors of winter...

The cold lingered all day yesterday. Everywhere we went, we found icy creeks and frosty pastures, and rocks coated with crazy spires of ice.



But the fallen leaves rimmed with frost were my favorites. Dropped by a multitude of trees and mixed by the wind, they lay together, fused by ice and frost. Green and dark brown, gold and cinnamon.

The muted colors of winter are so beautiful.

A quiet day...

I got up before the alarm this morning, and watched the rising sun turn the sky pink and rose and gold. It's been a while, in this soggy cold January, since I saw a sunrise.

I made a mug of lemon herbal tea, and settled down with Madison to read my friends' blogs. It shocks me how quickly I fall behind. And how behind I am with writing my own. I've been spending more time sewing, trying to ignore that I've not felt the urge to go out with my camera. I miss that feeling, that I need to get outside ahead of the sun, no matter how early it might be. But it will come back... the next time the day dawns crisp and cold and beautiful, I will be out there.

Dave finally got up at 9:30, and suggested we find a cache in Burien, then have lunch at Sharp's Alehouse again. I love this place, all dark wood and glass and comfortable chairs. And the food is wonderful.

It hit 62 degrees today... it's a bit early for our false spring, but I'll take it. I spent the rest of the day thinking about the yard, and pruning that needs to be done, and all the work we plan to have done on the house and outbuildings this summer.

Winter...

I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,

The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,

The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,

And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see

The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;

And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,

I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,

And build me stately palaces by candlelight.

-- Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal

Foggy morning...

It was foggy when I got up this morning, pulling on my boots and coat for a very early morning walk. I grabbed my camera and gloves, and slipped quietly out the front door.

There was still snow on the ground, and it's cold. To grab a phrase that belongs to Christmas, "not a creature was stirring." No animals bleating for their breakfast, no cars on the road. It was utterly still, and beautiful.

I crunched through the snow to the barn, where a pair of owls raised a family this past summer.

The 1910 barn on my sister and brother-in-law's property is one of my favorites. I walked out to the road, intending to walk up the hill to get a different view. But as soon as I stepped onto the pavement, I felt the ice under my feet.

So I retreated back to the warm house, a fresh pot of coffee, and my book.

Frosty...

Winter solstice has arrived, and just like that, so has winter.

In winter...

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth,
for the touch of a friendly hand, and for a talk beside the fire:
it is the time for home.

... Edith Sitwell

Winter barns...

It's snowed a half dozen times this winter (so far)... but the timing hasn't worked out at all for photographing my favorite barns with snow on the ground. To compensate for that lack (which I really feel), I've gone back to other years and other snowy landscapes, to remember some of my favorite winter scenes.

We weren't able to get to Ellensburg this winter, but in 2016 we spent a weekend with good friends, and before we drove back to the west side, I spent a few hours in a blizzard, photographing some of the farms south of town. I was the only one out on the roads, an experience I won't ever forget.











The falling snow blurs the edges, making photographs look like paintings.



Among the several hundred barns in the Kittitas Valley, many are decorated with painted quilt blocks. Kittitas County has the only designated barn quilt trail in the state of Washington.





The valley also has several intact historic homesteads, like this one west of town. I love barns, but exploring a place where old farmhouses still stand proud with their barns is so special.

Sharing my winter barns on The Barn Collective today.

Foggy mornings...

Fog and cold mornings, frost on the grass, almost eerily silent. It's tough to get up early on cold winter mornings, but it's all worthwhile when I find something like this.

Just a couple of days after I took this photograph, the weather has turned soggy again. All the rain is flooding the creeks, and my pond is four times its normal size. From frosty pastures to reflections in the blink of an eye... that's winter in the Northwest.

Water into ice...

If the river has a soul, it's a peaceful one. If it has a lesson to impart, that lesson is patience. There will be drought, it says; there will be floods; the ice will form, the ice will melt; the water will flow and blend into the river's brackish mouth, then join the ocean... endlessly, forever, amen.  - Therese Anne Fowler

Ice drops...

Heading east, to the central Cascades, where we'll find snow and blue skies and cold temperatures. Good friends, good food, a winery party, and lots of time to relax before Christmas.

Our snow is over for now. The icy cold days were such fun and I loved being outside with my camera.

Winter officially arrives in a few days... I hope it's a cold one.

A new view...

One of the reasons I love driving the back roads (other than driving my bright red MX-5 on a twisty road) is that I almost always find a different viewpoint of a local landmark. Like Mount Si, which rises above the little town of North Bend. It's a spectacular hunk of glacier-carved rock and one of my favorite views along I-90 heading toward Snoqualmie Pass.

But today we found a different view, with the mountain coated in fresh snow, the Snoqualmie River flowing north, and all of it framed with trees and shrubs still wearing their autumn colors.

Drops of ice...

On a day that began with icy roads and freezing fog, and ended with watching the last light of the day washing over the face of Mt. Si, there were lots of things that stood out as amazing.

Being surrounded by mountains covered in the first real snow of the season, sparkling in the sunshine. Finding a hidden view of the mountains reflected in an oxbow lake. Walking along the the Snoqualmie River, with a snowy Mt. Si in the background.

Everything was beautiful on this cold morning. As I slid across a bridge on the Snoqualmie Valley trail and walked down the slope toward the river, I was surrounded by snowberry bushes glinting with moisture. As I brushed against one, expecting to be showered with icy cold water, I realized that the branches were actually covered in droplets of crystal clear ice.

First snow...

Huge flakes falling outside the farmhouse windows this morning, just after first light. I love the first real snow of the season, don't you?