Tapestry of July

The heat and long days of summer has made me forgetful of the dark icy days of winter

A botanical surge has released a vibrant surge of colors, shapes and symmetry

Venture outside and breathe in the magic, soak in the beauty, witness the wonder

Forest fire smoke filled days

Thick, atmospheric smoke from wildfires hundreds of miles away chokes the skies, and I want to capture the beauty in this dystopian mood above and below the water.

I get to the water’s edge and through the smokey haze I see a loon and a fisherman already there

Morning light pierced the haze, casting a rusty glow across the water's surface

I wade into the water and through the smoke-filled air and put on my gear

The fish and the underwater photos seem to be unaffected by the smoke

Moody shadows and hazy air above the water make for surreal photos

I wonder if the fish know what is going on above them

I am not sure I know what's going on in the world around me

Filtered sun light danced on the water

And I snorkel on

I'm one jammy bugger

Out of the house first thing in the morning, my snorkeling gear and camera in hand as I am greeted by a chorus of frogs and two loons. As I make my way into the lake I say to myself -

I'm one jammy bugger.

Jammy bugger: A heavily British and Australian slang phrase meaning someone is remarkably, almost annoyingly lucky

Fully geared and diving in, I am welcomed by darting fish and their mirror images

The bass have laid their eggs

Some have hatched

And the parent fish keeps a watchful eye on the fry

The fish above me look like they are flying in the ski

I focus on symmetrical imagery

And half in the water, half out of the water compositions

I snorkel back to my put in point, the loons still there, their heads in the water looking for me and where I went

They realize we are where we started

I'm a jammy bugger

History, relics, legacy and courtship

In 1894 the Williams Salsich & Co. lumber company started a mill on the shores of Star lake in northern Wisconsin.

This is one of the few times I did not take (opening photo) a photo appearing in my blog.

The sawmill produced over 400 million board feet of lumber before closing in 1908.

118 years later this is what it looks like.

Offshore and under the water can still be found remaining evidence of some sort of surviving framework.

The timber era has ended, yet fish still visit the abandoned relic

And fishermen leave behind their attempts to catch the fish.

When will the fishing line become history?

If the passage of time could speak, what would it tells us?

small fry gather and forage in the shallows

and muskies court where a once bustling enterprise boomed

As another day goes into the history books.

Time travel

Time machines are typically depicted as vessels we board to visit different eras, rather than portals that transport those eras to us.

This thought came to me recently when I was photo'ing at a local classic boat show.

Triggering a sense of mental time travel back to our younger days or the nostalgia handed down from our parents.

A time you read about in a book or saw in a movie when a woman in a wide brimmed Chapeau waits for her distinguished romantic companion.

Or just a picnic with friends and family

If you weren't feeling seaworthy you could watch it safely from shore from your beach cabana

Names from yesteryear like Evinrude, Chris-Craft and SeaHo drifted by

or a modern classic like the Porsche Fearless

The romanticized classic designee could not be overlooked

The more times change the more they stay the same

Just another adventure?

Immersing myself into a streamlet and as always not sure what I will find.

MY gatekeeper for this mornings adventure is a crayfish.

In Ojibwe oral tradition, the crayfish embodies humility, adaptability, and bravery. The crayfish appears in tales to demonstrate how small, humble creatures outwit larger, boastful predators

The rushing water carry's me down stream along with a schooling of golden shiners.

I, in the roll of boastful predator/photographer am humbled by the tiny creatures who's lives I briefly intertwine with.

I head out of the streamlet into the lake that is its source and photo the biproducts of strings of algae synthesizing oxygen.

A tree that once marked time in height and growth rings now marks time in decay and disappearance

Sunlight makes its way through gaps in the trees and into the water making for interesting underwater reflections

As I adventure on, I catch the attention of a lone bass

Flippering my way around a rock bar I am noticed by a school of rock bass, there red eye coloration often becomes more vibrant in adult males during the spring spawn. This can play a role in territorial displays and showing dominance to competitors

The water is cold and so am I and my body alerts me it’s time to get out, a watchman tadpole there to see me leave its world and return to mine

My hands tight from the cold water as I clamber up the bank, I find that nature has left me flowers.

Selfies with fish

I have been trying to master the art of taking a selfie with fish.

The first thing you do is wait

wait long enough and the fish may become curious

Then the fish want it to be all about them - typical divas

They look into my eyes trying to tell me fish to human telepathically how I should be doing this.

Just another day being a photographer.

Time to come out of your shell

Don't swim away come out and play

As the song asks us -

"Are you having any fun?

What you getting out of living?

Who cares for what you’ve got if you’re not having any fun?"

When hints of summer arrive in northern Wisconsin my fun is adventuring and snorkeling in the lakes around me.

the water temperature is in the mid 60's

Pollen from the pine and popple trees has filled the air and landed on the lakes giving the photos a little cloudy look

That has not stopped the bass from making their nests and laying their eggs

And the Spatterdock is emerging from the lakebed

And escargatorie are out foraging

While a musky lurks the day away

and this bass asks me with surprised eyes why I didn't tell it there was a musky behind it

"That you are here—that life exists and identity, / That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse."

Walt Whitman

Sign of spring

The seasonal pattern is always the same and always changing but it seems like we are stuck in the winter phase - you cant park here move along.

Excitement for the future while the present feels like its frozen in time as the ice and snow of winter methodically transform from a solid to a liquid and a vapor.

A sure sign of spring is the appearance of the silver-gray catkins of the willow waiting to attract bees looking for an early source of nectar

I cannot wait to get into the lakes even though the water temperature is only 44 degrees

Ignoring the bone chilling cold water, I embark on an Ernest Shackleton like adventure summoning false courage to spend brief moments of time camera in hand sans wetsuit trying capture from the edge of ice and water pictures under the ice

All my rational thoughts hiding from a self-induced ice cream headache, without the ice cream I see visions of ...

Spring forward

A crazed and angry blizzard blew across the upper Midwest recently leaving record amounts of wind driven snow and an outbreak of Vernalagnia.

The ice and snow held us tightly in its icy fingers

With out much fanfare Slowly following behind the blizzard was the spring equinox forcing the formidable winter into a shameful surrender

Sunlight sparkled a path of hope across the water

And played around the boulders

If you would like to celebrate Earth Day on April 22nd, come out and see my show Lakes, lyrics and life at Nicolet College

Why?

"Why" did the turkeys cross the road?

According to Merriam-Webster -

"for what cause, reason, or purpose"

So - for what cause did the turkeys cross the road?

the sign says - to get to Arbor Vitae

"Why" do I go out in the snow and subzero temperatures to take photos?

Reason - The age of reason compels me to

It would be easier to take photos from the warmth of my house of the full moon illuminating the frost on my windows

"Why" do alien ice ships voyage the vastness of time to our shores?

Maybe they have no porpoise - and I have no purpose in making that pun

Lets reflect on this for a moment

There is no why - birds do it

And even photographers do it.

Love is like hockey

The heart is the size of a clinched fist weighing approximately 7 to 15 ounces.

A hockey puck is a solid disc of vulcanized rubber, 1 inch thick, 3 inches in diameter weighing 6 ounces

This warning can be used for love and hockey

As you might have realized I have no idea what I'm talking about ... or I'm on to something

But the game goes on be it hockey or love

William Shakespeare said -

"Love is merely a madness and... deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do."

you could say the same of hockey

"You miss 100% of the shots you don't take" and "I skate to where the puck is going to be, not where it has been"

Wayne Gretzky’s

You could say the same of love

Sometimes you just need to shoot the puck - is that not the goal?

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!

Happy Groundhog Day!

February 2nd is the day the fabled Groundhog prophecies from the sight of its shadow if northern Wisconsin gets 6 more weeks of winter or if it cant see its shadow spring is 6 weeks away, no matter what is seen we will have 6 more weeks of winter.

No winter lasts forever, no spring skips its turn, despite the forecast, let's live like its spring!

"Earth laughs in flowers." — Ralph Waldo Emerson

So, lets laugh are way to spring

I checked my horoscope for the spring, and this is what it said -

"Sag - twisty roads good news job offers grim reels breaks wild. Horizons chase laughs glue love shotgun impulse tight. Purple roams free vibes lucky pure."

Did I receive predictions of my future from a Yoda-ish Groundhog sending out a Haiku of the collective horoscope for the universe?

If you have thoughts on this, I would appreciate your feedback

Or we can just laugh our way spring.

Brutally beautiful

(All temperature's used in this blog post will be in Fahrenheit)

In the days leading up to this blog post warning's circulated on radio, television and the internet of extreme cold or brutally cold weather and deadly wind chills on their way.

This morning, I dragged myself out from under the warmth of my down comforter to discover "they" were right - my thermometer read negative twenty-eight degrees.

Is this what Shakespeare meant when he said - "Now is the winter of our discontent"?

I looked out the window and the frosty splendor was absolutely breathtaking.

I made coffee and am now back under the warmth of the down comforter reflecting on hike I took a few days ago when it was a balmy two degrees.

The color of the sky was cold blue

the scenery was breath taking, literally and scenically

The moving water of the stream kept it from freezing

Undeterred by the cold, the ducks went about their business as if it were just another day

I stood on the pier and enjoyed the icy elegance

Is beauty born from suffering or do you just get used to it?

Only negative sixteen the high temperature for the day as I upload this post.

knew year knew you

The year fades only to be reborn with the next sunrise

and we head off down the path of the unknown

The universe is always sending us signs so we can find direction in our everyday surroundings

As we beat our wings but go nowhere

And reflect on the fleeting moments of our lives

While the chill of time mixes with light and shadow

Hope's flame endures the winter of the years and time goes on.

Warmest wishes for a joyful holiday season!

Snow laden trees stand like silent robed monks of winter praying at the edge of the creek

Winter's artistry whispered across the forest

The creek could not stand still or it would freeze

Old man winter reached out with Icey fingers on the creek’s reflections

Jack Frost's chilly breath left a delicate, frosted lace on every surface

Witnessing and documenting that interplay of ice and reflection made me feel incredibly lucky and grateful to share with all who view and enjoy this blog.

Glad tidings of comfort and joy from jimsgibberish

Snow time like the present

Bone chilling winds have chased the first snows of the season into Wisconsin blanketing all it touches in a coating of white while the sun hides behind the clouds and water turns to ice

The roads I travel lead to Currier & Ives idyllic destinations

Where time is frozen and its snow time like the present

Day of the Turkey

As we trot into Thanksgiving, we in northern Wisconsin only experience a brief 9-hour window of sunshine that is if the sun comes out from behind the clouds but when it does it can brighten your outlook

It is a universal experience even the deer feel it

Sometime in the night old man winter came a knocking - I won’t open that door now and will save that for the next blog

And let the past be the past

While reflecting on the perfection of imperfection ang giving thanks for what is now.

Falling behind

We are entering the season of diminishing daylight and what remains of the colors of autumn the wind blows through my yard, but I still have photos of its grandeur to share with you

The final autumn leaves drift on the water's surface

The last crop of hay is bailed and waits to be picked up

I still venture out to see what there is to see

And reflect upon the future

And be grateful for the opportunity to show my work through classes at the local college.

Sirens song

The last of the fall colors are beginning to pale but the light still dances on the water

And cranberry harvesting in northern Wisconsin is ending

So, it’s off to the pizza farm before its season also ends were even the shadows wait patiently to order their wood fired pizza

Your order is placed into one of the 3 wood fired outdoor brick ovens

Cooking time is only minutes

and it can be enjoyed with a delightful, fermented beverage

Everyone enjoys even the shadows

While kids still jump into hay piles

The world is bathed in beauty by the sun's rays

Nomadic dancers take flight to a Primeval pulse

And I am not the only one captivated by the siren song of the gypsy dancers