Archive for the ‘Images Captured’ Category
Plugging Away
It was a calm day at the lake place yesterday. Since it was an off day for the World Cup, I made a concerted effort to get out and walk the grounds after watching the 5th Stage of the Tour de France. Later today, the tourney resumes with the first of the quarter-final matches kicking off. After watching the majority of the competition to reach this point, I feel compelled not to miss any of the remaining matches. I will keep plugging away at consuming the riches of spectator sports available to me.
That continues a frustratingly large number of hours in front of a television, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for entertainment’s sake. My days back on a lawn tractor will return soon enough. I’m trying not to think about how much horse manure is accumulating in the compost area that will need tending.
My survey of the grounds provided an opportunity to snap a few creative photos and witness the evidence in the gravel driveway that the storm that raged overnight between Tuesday and Wednesday created a bit of a flash flood. A significant amount of sand and gravel was removed along one slope of the driveway and poured down into the lagoon, leaving the water looking like a milky coffee drink.
The water at the beach remained clear and inviting, making for a perfect, soothing soak as the afternoon drew to a close.
A swim felt ideal after digging into a messy chore I’d been putting off since we arrived last Friday. There was a firewood storage box located on the upper deck of the house that was far from watertight. The dregs of firewood on the bottom were soaked and rotting. The plywood bottom of the box was rotting, too.
Unfortunately, that led to the boards of the deck underneath it rotting. When I looked in on it when we first got up here, I saw there was a hornets’ nest being built under the lid. It took me a few days to get around to dealing with that. Cyndie and I finally sprayed it on Tuesday night, and yesterday, I started scooping out the mess of decaying, soaked firewood left in the bottom. That process involved several trips down from the deck to dump the rotting gunk and felt an awful lot like plugging away toward accomplishing a task.
When I had the box emptied, I enlisted the help of neighbors to carry the box off the deck to a spot where I plan to unceremoniously deconstruct it. I suspect the old firewood box will become fuel for future outdoor campfires, that is, the parts that aren’t soaked and rotting, anyway.
The moral of today’s story: Water erodes gravel driveways and rots any and all wood with relentless tenacity. To avoid it, enact routine preventive measures.
You know, keep plugging away at it.
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Just Why
If you ever drive south on Hwy 63 toward Ellsworth, WI, you can see this view to your left a few miles before reaching town.
Don’t ask me why there is a line of what appear to be derelict trucks of various styles and sizes jutting into the middle of that farm field. While hoping this weird display of someone’s creative statement isn’t an expensive thing to pull off, I imagined the “artist” must be well-known in the area for the project, as I pedaled past the crazy spectacle yesterday.
With that in mind, I guessed people must be in the habit of volunteering to donate rusting relics to the person as a way to have them removed from their property. Once people learn you collect rusted junk trucks, I suspect you find out there is an endless supply available, whether you want them or not.
But that doesn’t bring me any closer to answering the question of why.
I should offer to show the person responsible how they could arrange them to create a very large labyrinth in that field.
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Opposite Skies
For your review, I present two skies at opposite ends of the day yesterday:
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Recent Images
It was a quiet but beautiful Sunday yesterday at Wintervale. Between watching Olympic Curling and Hockey, I got outside for a midday walk with Asher and, back indoors, tweaked some leaf photo files in my library from the previous week.
That last one was notable for the surprising amount of shredded leaf matter beneath a large oak that had no leaves in its branches to shred. It was baffling. The mess appeared one morning and continued to intensify over several days, just beneath this particular tree. Did a squirrel that was nesting in the tree decide it no longer needed as much insulation?
Ya got me.
By early afternoon, the meltwater was flowing down the drainage swale that passes across our fields. It’s an unsettling reality in February. I haven’t seen any news reporting the crazy weather occurring in the UK lately, but our friend, Ian Rowcliffe, in Portugal, informed me of their ongoing doses of heavy rain causing flooding.
The region is receiving strong storms because of the warmer atmosphere holding more moisture, and the jet stream positioning is holding the high and low pressure systems in place for the moment. The weather is swinging between drought and flooding from one year to the next.
It has me not wanting to think about what’s in store for us next in the Midwest of the US. Hopefully, the summer of ’26 won’t bring down as many large trees as we were forced to deal with last year.
I’m afraid we are just going to have to hang on and find ways to cope with whatever outcome is delivered. It’s hard because weather is one of the few things that sending love doesn’t seem to influence.
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Evening Lights
Last night, Cyndie and I ventured out for dinner to Hudson on the eve of their annual hot air balloon festival with the intention of maybe hanging around to take in the torchlight parade. We enjoyed a first visit to the basement restaurant, Black Rooster Bistro, where I dined on an excellent walleye entrée.
Our reservation was early, so we were able to observe the energy rise as tables filled with festival-goers while we ate. After our meal, we browsed a few shops along the main drag and witnessed a dramatic display of noise and flames jetting skyward from the apparatus atop one of the balloon-less balloon baskets.
Even though the day had been above-freezing and sunny, the temperature of the evening was dropping significantly, making our stroll a little more stiff than our moods preferred. We decided to walk down to gawk at the colored lights display in the trees of Lakefront Park on the shore of the St. Croix River.
Then we decided to go home and watch the Olympic opening ceremonies on television in warmth. We didn’t wait for the parade, but I took some pictures before we headed home for you to enjoy.
The lights were fun, but the leftover glow of sunshine from below the horizon is what really makes the photos pop for me. The way the little white lights looked up close against the rough bark of the tree trunks obviously caught my attention. It looked even cooler to the naked eye.
It was a fun night. Now, bring on the Olympic competitions!
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