Super Cold / Ice

Seeing a Baltimore Ravens player doing a "snow" angel out of confetti on the artificial turf after the game a few hours ago (on artificial turf) inspired me to do a post about snow. Rather than snow, how about ice? I've been wanting to share these pictures since I had them developed by my friends at Photoworks a few weeks ago.

Over this past holiday break Catey and I were in Wisconsin. We took a day trip with Dad to Port Washington one day (December 30), and the three of us chanced to witness a miraculous display of ice formed on the  breakwater and everything nearby. We wandered slowly down this frozen pier, beholden to this frozen spectacle.  Part of our slow pace was the treachery of walking down a breakwater with a railing in the middle (none on the sides), walking on snow-covered ice, with the unfrozen yet seemingly deathly cold waters of Lake Michigan below us. The breakwater stands about 12 feet above the surface of the water and there are not many rungs for one to use to climb out, if one should fall in.

 

Precarious breakwater path, Port Washington WI, December 2012.

Mostly, though, our slow pace was the result of astonishment, at every step, of the beauty and impossibility of this ice. It surrounded thin branches of shrubs, ten times the diameter of each pencil-sized branch. How did it manage to extend this far vertically without a branch -- or the ice -- something -- breaking? What caused this? Even Dad, who has spent a lifetime near frozen water in frigid winters, remarked he'd never seen anything like it in his life.

Frozen cable and icicles, Port Washington WI, December 2012.

I researched weather leading up to our foray to see what chain of events caused this phenomenon. At first I thought it could have been: 

• Several days of daytime highs around 32° and nighttime lows below freezing. Precipitation each day of less than an inch, of rain that coated the ever-thickening branches during the day, then remaining frozen. Practically no wind, any day.

But it was 44° on Dec. 15. No way, this would have melted it all. So, maybe:

• The steam from the waters of the adjacent Port Washington harbor, coming from wave action creating airborne water droplets from slightly warmer waters (perhaps from the coal power plant nearby), coated the branches, day by day, with fine amounts of airborne mist, that gradually created the thick layer that we see. This was done under the calmest of conditions, with winds of less than 5mph, over about 10 days of temperatures remaining constant, highs at 32° and nighttime lows of 25° or so.

Then came Dec. 20: Daytime highs of 35°, 0.84 inches of precipitation (rain/snow) fell, it was quite windy (12 mph sustained, gusts to 28mph. The Milwaukee Journal/Sentinel reported a nasty storm. [Reading the comments to this article, by the way, is pretty amusing. 2logical1 posted: "Its been snowing in WI for how many years now? How much? when?, any thing out of the ordinary we need to know? ENOUGH jeeeeeeeeeez". Haha. This sounds like something  Dad might say, and I'd laughingly agree.] At any rate, the lake effect must have warmed the precipitation enough to make it lose its crystals in the liquid form, and the wind chill froze it into form. This is my final hypothesis, although it's still only a hypothesis.


And it remained below freezing until the day we were there. So, from what I can tell, these perfect plant popsicles were formed during a traffic-halting snowstorm and thankfully remained for us to see them, with clear roads and crisp blue skies.

For the full set of photos, click here. 

Icy aster stalk, Port Washington WI, December 2012.

Castro wires, one bird

This is just a b&w picture of a bunch of wires on a post, taken in the morning, then given a "negative" effect. The bird (a robin)'s presence is enhanced in negative. The original (positive) photo is at the bottom of this page. 

Wires on Pole, Castro, Oct 2012 (negative).

 I was struck by the convergence of wires on this post one spring evening last year. I was waiting for a show at the Castro Theater. The line was so long it wrapped around the corner to the sidewalk in front of these houses. I looked up, astonished at these wires, certain everyone else was noticing the same thing. They didn't seem to. I kept it under wraps and returned later, one fall morning. It was my secret for several months. When I returned, it still was just as astounding to me as it was several months prior.

I guess this is what a photographer, or a poet, does -- sees everyday things as extraordinary. That doesn't mean that everyone would think the sheer numbers of wires attached to this pole to be something extraordinary. I'm grateful that it was to me, because it added something unique and personal to my cityscape.

Wires on Pole, Castro, Oct 2012 (positive).

Lizard Tail

Lizard tail (Eriophyllum staechadifolium) is a medium-sized shrub that grows in coastal scrub. You need to come to California to see this plant, and once in California, head to the Pacific Coast. Once there, find a plot of undisturbed or restored habitat, such as in the Presidio, and you're certain to locate this species. It is especially easy to located in summer months, when golden flowers gracing the domed structure of its wind-sculpted stands gives it away.

Eriophyllum staechadifolium, Presidio, November 2012.

Also note the leaf texture, shape and structure. According to Calflora's incredibly thorough and indepth online California Plant Names dictionary, the Latin name for lizard tail means "woolly-leaved, leaves like lavender." I wonder if the lavender reference refers to the bluish/greyish cast that the leaves have (seen better in color) or their aromatic character. The leaf structure is not like that of lavender. But, the leaves don't smell like lavender -- more like sage -- so I'm not sure if that's the reference either.

To find native plants in California, check out this resource: 
http://www.calflora.org/entry/places.html

For more info on Midwestern natives, here's another online resource: 
http://www.illinoiswildflowers.info/

If you have a similar page for your region, post the link in Comments.

Towel Drying

There's something magical about the light behind this towel drying on our new porch. The towel could actually be a sunny swimming pool seen from far above. I'm pleased to have composed this. I never would have seen this with color film in the camera.

We should all strive to use clotheslines if available. Catey and I are fortunate enough to have a Butts Manufacturing Model R400 retractable clothesline on our front porch.  Currently hanging on it: a thrift-store purchased ladies' polyester disco suit; a rug; seven already re-used zipper-lock bags; and a compostable trash bag that has already been used to store organic celery in our high-efficiency fridge, and will be used again for our minimal trash.

Ahh, Marin.

Towel Drying, Mill Valley, 2012.