Photos of the Week – December 15, 2025

First, a quick announcement that we are again offering up to five $1,500 grants to graduate students working on research related to conservation in the Great Plains. Read more about the Weaver Grant program here.

Yesterday, I headed out to watch the sunrise over my favorite frozen wetland at the Platte River Prairies. It was a beautiful, calm morning with temperatures in the low single digits (Fahrenheit). A short-eared owl flew near, patrolling the banks, a mouse of some kind hopped away from my feet (not when the owl was near), and small flocks of Canada geese periodically passed overhead.

Hoar frost on ice.

I was at the wetland to take advantage of a couple days’ worth of cold temperatures that I’d hoped had frozen the water enough to let me wander around on it with my camera. Temperatures this week are supposed to be well above freezing, so I knew I had a short window for ice and frost photography. The ice was just thick enough to hold my weight, but thin enough to make ominous sounds beneath me. I mainly crawled or slid on my belly to make sure I didn’t fall through. (The water beneath me was only about a foot deep, but still.)

The sun was just hitting the top of the “eagle tree” when I took this photo.
Here’s a closer view of the hoar frost on the “clear-ish” portion of the ice.
Here are the tracks I made by army crawling across the ice to get the above two photos.
Hoar frost made fuzzy leggings on these rushes.

As the sunlight reached the vegetation near the north edge of the wetland, I spent a little time photographing frosty plants. One particular scene caught my eye and reminded me of something I’m worried most of you won’t recognize. Have you ever seen little puppets with articulated legs and arms that dangle from the end of a stick? You can make them dance and move around by bouncing the stick or bouncing the surface beneath the puppet? I’m not talking about marionettes – they have multiple long strings. These are either directly attached to the end of a stick or attached by a single short chain or something.

Well, anyway, they exist and I thought the frosty flower of a bent rush looked kind of like one.

“Frosty puppet dancer”.
“Frosty puppet dancer” alternate version.

As I walked/slid around the wetland, I gravitated toward places where the ice was darker and covered with scattered hoar frost. The little patches of frost reminded me of herds of bison or wildebeests moving across the plains. I enjoyed photographing them both individually and in groups.

I was really hoping for a bunch of ice bubbles, but didn’t find many. There were only a few patches, here and there. Between a light snowfall and the hoar frost, there wasn’t as much clear ice as I’d hoped. I still managed to scratch my itch a little.

Do these ice bubbles look like paramecia to anyone else?

Here are more examples of what I photographed yesterday. I managed to stay on top of the ice all morning. My gloves and sleeves got a little wet toward the end, but only because I was trying to work near the edge of some open water and there was a little sloshing. Thanks for your concern.

This will be a warmer week, but I hope for colder temperatures soon. It is winter, after all. If we can’t have wildflowers and insects, we should at least get frost, snow, and ice!

Photos of the Week – November 14, 2025

I mean, you knew this was coming, right? If you’re on any social media platforms, you’ve already seen enough northern lights photos this week to last a lifetime. Well, guess what? I took some too. Then I waited until everyone was already saturated with images from other sources before dumping mine out there into the world. It’s a terrible marketing strategy.

So, feel free to ignore this post and move on to more important things in your life. You know, things like deciding whether that white powdery substance on the bread is mold or flour. No one knows. It’s impossible to know.

Stiff goldenrod and the Aurora Borealis, just south of Aurora, Nebraska

On the first night of the colorful sky lights (Tuesday), I went down to our family pasture at about 10pm and stayed until midnight. The show got less interesting as the night went on, but it was fun to wander around the prairie in the dark and look for interesting shapes to silhouette in front of the colors.

Indiangrass; Landscape format

One particular clump (clone) of Indiangrass really caught my eye. I liked it so much I photographed it in both landscape and portrait format and then circled back to it 15 or 20 minutes later and tried again.

The biggest challenge with this kind of silhouette photography was focusing. I had my camera low to the ground and was shining a flashlight on the plants I wanted in focus so I could see them through the camera and manually focus on them. I got it right about 50% of the time, which meant I took a lot of photos I can’t use, but since I anticipated that, I got multiple tries in on each composition and mostly came out ok.

Indiangrass: Portrait format.
Stiff sunflower
Stiff goldenrod again
Indiangrass again

On Wednesday, there were clouds in the area and the forecast for good northern lights visibility was uncertain. I decided to chance it and made a run out to the Platte River Prairies and my favorite restored wetland to see if I could get some reflections in the water. Right when I arrived, the show was terrific, but it didn’t last long.

Beaver pond and eagle tree.

Also, the beavers had done a lot of work since I’d last walked around that wetland. Stumbling about in the dark, I quickly found out that most of my favorite photography spots were under water. I made it work, though I startled several mallards into flight as I blundered through the tall vegetation and shallow ponded water, trying to find good vantage points for photos.

The ol’ eagle tree was a dependable focal point, as always. Of course, no one but me calls it the eagle tree because no one here has been around long enough to remember the bald eagle nest that used to be there.

Plus, of course, the nest wasn’t actually in the tree I’m talking about. It was in the tree right next to it, but during the restoration project (which included tree removal), we left both trees standing so as not to disturb the nest. When the tree with the actual nest fell down (15 years ago?), I kept referring to the other one as the eagle tree anyway. It’s weird that no one else calls it that.

A different part of the same beaver pond. It all seemed like one big beaver pond, actually.

Anyway, I only got 10 or 15 minutes of good northern lights on Wednesday before the clouds spoiled things, but it was still worth the trip. Just listening to owls hoot and ducks grumble while I splashed around in the dark would have been enough, actually. The brief sky spectacular was a really nice bonus.

Fading northern lights, but good stars! (And the glow of two nearby towns in the distance)

It sounds like it might be another decade or more before we get a similar show, especially this far south. I hope you got your fill of northern lights photos, if not the opportunity to see them in person.