COUSIN CAPERS #2 - APRIL 2012

There are 4 of us "girl" cousins (all around 70!) who couldn't wait to repeat the good-fortune trip we had a year ago.  And we did it!  I just got back from another almost-2-weeks of hiking, playing, and rambling in the Southern Utah magnificence.  

Our first outing to a high valley was a bit uncomfortable with a cold wind and moody storm clouds:

 But we were undaunted, and carried on:

After our first outing, the weather was warm and picture-perfect for each of our hikes and rambles:

We had all sorts of terrain and ground covers and elevations on our hikes:

And every ramble presented unique, varied, and astounding vistas:

One hike, to a place called "Three Ponds" was ever-upward and minus an official trail:

We chose to go there after that first stormy day in hopes that there might actually be three pools of water.

We were 50 % lucky.  Yes, each pool had standing water (which would definitely not be there at the end of the hot day), but the waterfall cascades between each pool were dried up.

This is the lowest pool:

We climbed to the highest one also:

There was minimal water left in a mud puddle, but it offered up this fine 

reflection for me:

One of my favorite times of the days was first thing some mornings when

I went on a 4-mile solo walk up Snow Canyon.

I couldn't believe that I was always alone in such a vast place; just me and the dawn-greeting birds:

( These photos were taken with my pocket camera).

Perhaps there were other creatures too, but I only saw their 

trails.  Actually, I was very glad not to have seen a snake:

One of our hikes, Petrified Sand Dunes was great fun, scrambling ever upward.

But once on top, we realized the best way down would be to rappel.

We were not prepared to do this, and so used the only "equipment" we had: our backsides!

This perspective does not show how very steep it was:

ENCORE

No, I do not mean that this photography deserves accolades.  The title refers to

the fresh snowfall we got this morning!

Because I had just rambled about during the last surprise snow, I decided there was nothing more to capture, so I enjoyed the fresh beauty from inside.

Two hours later - and too late for the best photos - the meander mood overcame me, and out I went.

Since the last snowfall, early spring blossoms have popped out.  Again, I was really

too late for the bloom-under-snow shot, as things were dripping:

Knowing there wouldn't be anything exciting, I decided to experiment with

different settings at the few places I stopped:

I began my loop on the tried-and-true route just 5 minutes from our house:

 Different camera settings of same (heh, heh) "setting":

Well, what do you know.  The car just happened to swing by the Old Mill Pond! 

It too is within 5 minutes of home, so I was at the end of my loop:

On the return, I checked out the remnants of part of an old RR bridge.

It disappears into the woods, and simply ends there:

Nearly back home now, this is the other end of that RR bridge:

Back at home, skies had cleared.  This is the same tree as in

the first 3 shots:

COMMAND PERFORMANCE

For the past 3 months I have had to watch my favorite weather, snow, from a passive position.  What I really wanted to do was get outside with my camera, but I it was impossible for me. (The reason is explained in my blog of  February 29th) .

My secret wishes unexpectedly came true - in March!  Yesterday we woke up to several inches of fresh snow, and I couldn't get my coat and boots on fast enough.

I drove the snowy roads so early that I was alone, "breaking trail", and the ''dawn's early light" was a magical blue hue.

I loved that color.  I'm glad the camera captured that atmosphere because the photos will remind me of how alone I was in the quiet dawn with snow still falling heavily. I scurried around as fast as I could while that mood was predominant.

I just wanted to capture local scenes, not far from home:

The lovely cranberry red siding of the train depot (above)was stunning, surrounded by whiteness, and makes for the ideal segue for the next photos:

 Same bush, looking straight up, which caused the lens to be snowed-upon:

Fences always catch my eye when they are detailed by snow:

Just a little later in the morning, a more natural light came through.
Locals are calling this the "perfect (snow) storm" because there was plenty of it, it was beautiful and not wet, and it vanished under the sun by afternoon!
I like to secretly think it came just for me!

A nICE day

Heavy frost a couple of mornings ago whispered to me that I needed to visit my favorite local landscapes with my camera.  Well, the prompting came more as an excited shout - or was that my own voice?

To Snoqualmie Falls I drove (just 3 miles from home).  I knew what to expect, so I was prepared with outer-wear. Sun above, and near-flood-run-off  produced roaring waters in the right place:

 The Falls always makes its own weather.

When the atmosphere is cold enough, the spray turns to ice pellets.  Surroundings become encased in ice:

 Even the grass underfoot gets special attention:

This is not a shot-turned-sideways.  Force of the Falls'

wind made icicles form horizontally:

It is pretty late in the year, though technically still winter, for this extreme cold.

I was dismayed to see rhododendron buds caught in the icy grip:

The phenomenon of the Falls' power in creating "weather" showed blatantly that morning.

Within 10 feet of the guard rail, rhodie buds were tightly-closed, as above;

Eight feet further, and shrubs were sprouting color.  Another 10 feet beyond, and the rhodie blossoms were nearly in full bloom, though I didn't take a photo because they were not covered in ice.

Back in the parking lot, I happily shed my heavy, hooded jacket, hat, and gloves, which were soaked.  The sun was shining.

I looked back to take this one last photo, and immediately there was a resounding crack.  A huge limb broke from this very tree and tumbled down through stiff branches. I had been hearing the gun-shot-like cracks (indicating ice-laden branches just couldn't take the weight any longer) while I was photographing, and about the time I returned to the car, the slippery pathways were closed to Falls-viewers, due to the dangers underfoot and from above.
I had been alone most of the time I was there.  How lucky for me was my timing!