Go With The Magic

A current of cold air has swept down from the arctic to announce winter has officially arrived in Northern New Mexico . . . and is here to stay. Snowflakes are falling and a blanket of white covers everything. It happens every year, and for some it is almost unbearable, but for others, it is magic. I go with the magic. 

A few photos to share the mood . . .

I Only Feel Elation

I call my wife Heidi Of The Mountains. When we first began spending devoted time together about four years ago, we liked to hike in the mountains, and she enjoyed it so much that when I looked at her with her blonde hair as she hiked, I called her Heidi Of The Mountains. The name stuck, and at times, she has insisted that is what I must call her—Heidi. It is the only way I refer to her online.
A few days ago, we awoke to a fresh blanket of snow, with flakes continuing to fall from the gray sky above. Not to be stopped, we took our dog and snow shoes and drove along the blanketed road toward the Santa Fe Ski Basin, into the mountains. We parked at a trail head, and were completely alone. Our dog Gracie, immediately began frolicking, thrilled to be in the winter wonderland. Indeed, we all felt happy and lunged merrily into the magical woods. The snow continued falling and the temperatures were below freezing, but we were bundled in winter clothes, together by ourselves in the wilderness, and in silence among the snow-laden trees of the forest.
Following a barely traceable trail, deeper and deeper we went . . . the snow falling gently, everything shrouded in white, and serene. The only sound was our feet crunching in the snow, and our voices as we talked or laughed. Occasionally we would stop just to listen to the silence. Nothing, broke the impasse, not wind in the trees or bird song. Gracie would stop too, and listen.

At one point, Heidi Of The Moutains said, “My hands are cold, are yours?” I replied, “I don't know, because I am so entranced and happy, I only feel elation!”

First Big Snowfall

Orchids, blooming in a windowsill.

The first big snowfall of this season took us by surprise. We awoke from dreamy sleep, and looked out the window to see the whole lot covered in white . . . and silent. A big cape of white, thrown atop everything—as if to stop the world.

We ventured forth despite the cold and cumbersome streets, slipping our way along to a coffee shop that dared to open. Not as busy this morning. After coffee and the Sunday paper, we trudged for a walk in the old part of town. Our dog, Gracie, liked this new experience very much, leaping about with glee. She comes to us from California, where she never knew what cold is.
I love photographing in snow . . . it is poetic, and shapes become minimal—surfaces serene.

Heaven and Earth

“All Heaven and Earth
Flowered white obliterate...
Snow...unceasing snow”
― Hashin, Japanese Haiku: Two Hundred Twenty Examples of Seventeen-Syllable Poems

I live in a place that receives snow in winter, and although it can be inconvenient, it is also beautiful and poetic. When snow falls, the world changes in front of our eyes, it becomes silent, and shrouded, as if a blanket has been thrown over everything, and it is time to sleep.

"The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?" J. B. Priestley

Today, as I drove to my gallery, I had to detour to take pictures of the magical landscape. It is only ephemeral, this vision, because as the sun warms the earth, the blanket melts away and sharp forms spring forth once again.

Did you know that very light snow is known to occur at high latitudes on Mars?

Here on planet Earth, the world record for the highest seasonal total snowfall was measured in the United States at Mount Baker Ski Area, outside of the town Bellingham, Washington during the 1998–1999 season. Mount Baker received 2,896 cm (1,140 in. - or 95 ft) of snow.

Chamo's Adventure

It is remarkable how different are the charms of a forest from season to season. Now, in winter, our forest in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains is covered in deep snow. Heidi Of The Mountain’s and I arrived at a popular trail this morning just after sunrise, put on snowshoes, and along with our puppy, Chamo, hiked into the magical woods. The only sound to be heard was the crunch of snow under our feet.

Chamo had his first adventure in snow. He is an enthusiastic puppy—a poodle with jet-black curly hair. It is wonderful to see him when he joyfully bounds in the air with all feet off the ground. Soon, he played games with snowballs that he created with his jumping. The bits of snow rolled in balls down the steep slope, and he liked chasing them just ahead of his nose. The trail is packed from skiers and hikers, but is softer on the sides. Heidi, who adores Chamo watched in delight and then horror as Chamo chased a snowball into the powder, sinking with each step but continuing on until he was in over his head and could not move. “Steven!” she cried. Chamo struggled and managed to turn himself around, thrashing the snow but sinking. He managed to clamber back up the hill, but midway, another snowball rolled away and he went after it. “No Chamo!” we both shouted at once. He had become a snowball himself, whiter than black. “Steven, save him!” But I did not want to go down the hill. A few minutes later, Chamo managed to hop and thrash his way upwards, his nose barely above the snow, then reach Heidi’s arms on the trail. He has puppy energy, so we continued our hike while I pondered if there was a moral to the story of Chamo’s adventure chasing snowballs into the unknown.