I love exploring the woods and meadows in winter. The bones of the landscape, obscured by the softening cover of leaves a few months earlier, are now laid out for curious eyes. Frozen water makes new paths for my wandering feet. The fresh perspective makes familiar places new.
One frosty winter morning at Cranberry Lake, ice crystals hung in the air. Frost lined the cattails, and ringed the gentle curve of dried whorled loosestrife stems. This native plant is fine in all seasons. A thick layer of ice on the lake invited safe passage to new views and fresh perspectives.