THAW AT THE FALLS

Well, mid-winter blahs have set in, brought on by gray drizzle and boring weather.

I thought to visit the Falls to see if there was any ice left.  No.

It was still cold, and the flying mist was frigid, but there was actually nothing frozen this time.

This post represents boredom!

(A side-note; a little story of interest: While I was there during the freeze, I walked near a tree next to the one shown here. One worker was on the ground, and another, with a chain saw, was high in that 100-foot tree.  Safety dictated that the icy branches be removed before they broke off. He was on his way down, and exclaimed to his buddy, "I have never been so frightened on a job as I was just now!"  This burly lumberjack went on to say how the rumble-force of the falls made the tree sway, which ice-laden tree was hanging over the steep bank as shown here, and the ice was falling hard, and he looked down -  way down - and...  !)

This is the same place, just a week ago when all the growth, above and below, was encased in ice:

Now:

Then:

At least the once ice-carpeted stairs are now open for safe foot travel, and

I could read the wonderfully descriptive words carved into the cement:

UGLY DUCKLING

Introducing "Japanese Knotweed".  It is an insidiously invasive plant, the nemesis of nurseries and farmers, and right at the top of  the  list of "most invasive species" in the Northwest.

It is a plain bush with camel-colored  stems.

However, right now with heavy frosts on the twigs, it has turned into

the lovely swan of plants:

 Normally, in the winter, this Japanese Knotweed has bare tiny twiglets on bare twig-branches.

On the same street, here is a winter-bare tree with frost that looks like pussy-willows ...

... and a real pussy-willow tree, for some reason, without frost:

Dried ferns ala prickly frost:

MILL POND/ STILL POND

Frozen pond under icy trees:

 Frost  fringes:

Fairy Godmother's wand:

This is not posted for its photographic merit, but to show the sort of 

ice fragments that were falling from a blue sky; about 2 inches long:

Bare branches-turned-chenille plant:

FROST THORNS

Each of the tiny growing things pictured here actually have smooth stems, without any stickers.

One morning's frost was unusual in that it covered everything with little explosions of ice-stickles. 

Honest, this would normally be a bare branch, as the others pictured above, but certainly looks like

a blackberry twig:

Normally-smooth bark of a dogwood tree turns frightful:

No, this is not a barbed-wire fence, but plain old chicken wire-turned scary:

CATCH A FALLING CRYSTAL

I stepped outside to the front yard to make photos of the "bursting ice" phenomenon.  Everything looked as though it had white thorns, even the smoothest of surfaces.

Well, there they were, simply hanging in the frigid air: minuscule ice formations , small as bristles on a toothbrush!

I do not enhance or do special effects to my photos, though these look like I could have "erased" 

any connections the crystals had to something else.  No, to the naked eye, they were just floating in air:

Then, the sun came over the mountain, and there it was: the fragile spider web, highlighted by

the sunlight; and barely visible: 

RATTLESNAKE, ER RATTLE-SLIDE LAKE

Another frosty morning drew me to a favorite haunt.  The entire (large) lake was frozen over, even though it looks like water in this picture. 

I call it "stump-berg":

Closer to shore, shallow ice made patterns that looked to me like rushing water in a stream bed:

I really like the muted, antiqued tri-colored stack of leaves on the left:

Flotsam and jetsam frozen in time, including fishing line:

When I arrived, the ducks were huddled high up on the bank, but suddenly ventured out on the ice, slipping

into odd positions as they went. But they seemed so determined:

I hope she doesn't need a hip replacement later in life:

They were so smart!  It was exactly the moment when ice around rocks had melted just enough for drinking and preening water:

The stumps in Rattlesnake Lake are so photogenic, no matter what the season.

But I had never seen them encased in ice.  Being a coastal beach girl, I loved how the ice thrusting against the trunks looks like breaking surf:

PART OF THE THREE-MILE STRETCH

This is the beginning of  the 3-miles; 

 the pasture across the street from our house:

I stopped on the roadside where cattails were warming while their feet were frozen in the pond:

 Someone was singing his heart out.  A red-wing blackbird, whose favorite hang-out is in a bunch of cattails:

 What?  One spot of color was such a surprise.  Why would a dandelion still be blooming? 

Here it is wearing bling of ice on every petal tip: