I know I just posted some “photos of the week” a few days ago, but I spent a magical few hours on Thursday morning at Prairie Plains Resource Institute’s Gjerloff Prairie and couldn’t resist sharing some of the images from that trip. Though we’d just gotten a nice snowfall, I hadn’t planned to leave the house that morning because the forecast had called for overcast skies. I was awake well before sunrise, though, reading a book, when I noticed that the sky outside my window seemed a little brighter than seemed right for overcast skies. 

I peered out into a foggy morning and tried to decide whether there were clouds above the fog or not. Since I couldn’t tell, I decided it was better to head out and take a chance on the photo light being good. After all, the worst case scenario would be that I’d walk around in a snowy prairie for a while!

(Remember to click on the title of this post if you’re reading it in an email. That’ll open it online and allow you to click on images to see a bigger, more clear version of them.)

The light seemed to change by the minute all morning, though not linearly. It would brighten up for a little while, bringing warmer light, and then another bank of heavy fog would obscure the sun and turn everything blue again. The sun didn’t fully emerge through the fog until almost two hours after I arrived but I could always see the brighter patch of sky where it was hiding.

In some ways, photography was easy because I was surrounded by incredible beauty. At the same time, it was really challenging to capture the ethereal feel of my surroundings. Much of the time, tried to get low to the ground and find compositions that showed the landscape fading into the fog behind the frost-covered plants. I’d chosen Gjerloff over other local prairies because I knew its steep loess hill topography would be the right place for that kind of photo. 

When I wasn’t flat on my belly (enjoying the new waterproof snow pants and parka I bought last winter), I tried to get as close as possible to taller grasses and wildflowers and use them to frame the scene behind them. When I switched to a new camera system (Canon mirrorless) late in the fall, one of the lenses I was excited about was a 15-30mm lens that can focus right up to the glass lens. I got some good use of that function Thursday morning.

The prairie was nearly silent, except for the crunching of snow under my feet and the faint rustling of grass stems nudged by the wind. During periods of brighter skies, I switched my wide-angle lens for my macro lens and photographed frosty seed heads and stems. Then, I’d switch back again, attempting to shield the camera’s sensor from the light breeze and ice crystals falling from my coat as I did so. 

I really didn’t cover much of the prairie because as the light continually changed I kept circling back to spots I’d been before. Each time I passed by the same place, the changing light brought new opportunities and perspectives. I photographed some of the same individual plants a couple times – in different lighting conditions – and stood in my own foot prints on multiple occasions, framing up a photo while facing in a different direction than I had twenty or thirty minutes earlier.

Eventually, the fog dissipated completely, leaving me in full sunshine, intense enough that the bright snow and dark shadows made it nearly impossible to make good photos. It had been an amazing couple hours, but I was also glad for an excuse to stop tramping up and down those steep hills while wearing thick layers of clothing. Plus, I knew I had a long (but very pleasant) afternoon of sorting and working up images ahead of me and I was happy to get home to start on that task.

I still haven’t finished the book I was reading before deciding to head out to Gjerloff Thursday morning, but it’s not going anywhere. Neither is Gjerloff Prairie, of course, but the the fog, frost, and snow of Thursday morning was only there a few hours. I was incredibly grateful to have had the free day to take advantage of that opportunity. 

If I’d driven the twenty minutes up to the prairie only to find dark overcast skies, I still would have enjoyed a nice hike. Afterward, I would have returned home to my cozy blankets and book and been perfectly content. Instead, I was rewarded with the best possible combination of winter photography conditions and an absolutely unforgettable morning!

Happy Holidays, everyone! We got five or six inches of snow over the weekend, bringing in the winter with style. I’m hoping for a little sunshine later this week, but I couldn’t wait and decided to take an afternoon walk under overcast skies at Lincoln Creek Prairie. It was a really pleasant hour of exploration. Here are a few of my favorite photos from that walk.

I wasn’t the only one who’d been in the snow today. Apart from another human and their dog(s?), there were a lot of rabbit and bird tracks. The birds had been busily feeding on seeds of various plants, including grasses, ragweeds, and a little tall boneset. I didn’t take the time to follow the rabbit tracks to see what they’d had been up to.

I dropped down to the creek briefly and looked for interesting patterns in the ice that was partially covering the water. The mud was soft enough to make it hard to walk around easily, so I didn’t stay long. I didn’t see any activity around the beaver lodge(s) so I wondered if they’d moved on or just hadn’t been active since it snowed.

After I climbed back up the steep stream bank, I spotted a flash of orange in the snow. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a patch of red fox fur. I’d love to know what caused the small clump of fur to fall on top of the snow, but either way, it was worth stopping to photograph it.

The only other bright colors I saw were from the stems and fruits (hips) of prairie wild rose. Even those colors were muted by the overcast light, but they still stood out nicely against a bluish white background. Other than those reds, most of the color I saw was the subtle gold, gray, and brown of dried grasses and wildflowers. Fortunately, I’m a fan of subtle. I like prairies, after all.

I’d debated whether or not to venture out today. The light wasn’t ideal for photography and it was nice and cozy in our house. As I told Kim, though, I knew I’d be glad I went. After all, there’s always something interesting to find in a prairie. 

I was right. 

It’s always nice to be right.

If you’re getting some time off from work this week, enjoy it! Regardless, I hope you all enjoy the remaining days of 2023!