Monochrome: On the Way to Spring

I took similar pictures just about 

a month ago of these trees and shrubs.

Yep, they were standing in front of the same 

brownish wall, too. Then, it was the way the light 

reflected off the branches that caught my eye.

Yesterday, it was the subtle variations in color. 

There were bits of red added to the mix,

the buds that told me spring was indeed, in spite of 

the leaden gray skies, in our future.

The Frozen Tundra of an Asphalt Field

With January edging into February,

our winter weather has finally arrived, 

bringing below freezing winds that swept 

across the plains of area parking lots.

In the early morning dark,

people shuffled from their parked cars

into work, huddled and cringing 

from the blowing snow like so many

 shadowy proletariat, on their way to work

at one of the many cubicle farms

that make up our local employment scene.

Robins Ate the Berries

On Tuesday, I posted a couple pictures of robins 

perched in a berry-laden tree.

It is my contention that this tree is able to hold

its fruit all fall and winter because it's

meant as a late winter feast for the robins.

I've seen trees at other locations, their bases surrounded

by robins sitting in the snow, so gorged

on berries that they could not fly.

There were about a half dozen birds around this tree

when I returned Wednesday afternoon.

The berries are very nearly gone.

The only birds eating them are robins.

S'no Relief

I know. I know. It's all relative.

I went out for a bit yesterday and mounds of snow,

scooped to the curbs by plows, had patches 

and puddles of melted water 

seeping from beneath their massed bottoms.

That water froze overnight, turning my

tiny bit of the universe into a slip'n'slide.

Today's temperatures are 32 degrees colder

than average for this time in February.

My mind and body are preparing to swim

later this afternoon, but my skin is

protesting. In spite of my diligent efforts, 

the dry air whisks the moisture from my skin.

It itches. It itches.

Please, winter, go away.

Monster Slobber

Man, talk about desperate!

I could have gone into my archives for

a photo, but I just wasn't inclined

to do it. All I've wanted to do is curl up

under my blankies and watch movies, 

the more sappy and romantic, the better;

it's cold outside and I can't get warm.

I finally made it out of the house to go to

the store. Of course, I had my little camera with

me, so could record the appearance of

the downspout ogre, its slobber frozen, with

a tiny dribble of ice hanging just so.

I didn't want to risk breaking it off to see

whether it was clinging by a slender filament - 

the ogre might have come to life.

Blue Rectangles and Concentric Arcs with Scraggly Winter Stuff Between

I must be getting a bit of cabin fever:

While visiting the Marsh Gallery at 

the Herron School of Art,

I looked out the window to notice 

the ribbed sculpture at the front of the school. 

It seemed to pair with the blue rectangles

of the windows across the street,

making a nice contrast with the bare 

tree branches between.

A bit to the left, winter had scrawled

similar scribbles across the exterior 

of the IUPUI Library.

Stone Cold

Looking north from the corner 

of Meridian and Ohio Streets, 

the cold light seemed 

to emphasize the patterns 

created by the windows.

The buildings line the street, 

tartan plaids built of stone, 

belonging to clans of attorneys 

and corporate moguls.

Little Round Mound

As I walked to the Natatorium one day last week,

I saw this little round mound sitting atop 

the little round mound of a berm, chowing down on an acorn.

I think this squirrel is too chubby to be a male, 

and is, instead, a female preparing for her accouchement 

a few weeks from now inside her fur-lined nest.

Slowly, Daylight Returns

Slowly, daylight is returning to our portion of the planet,

bringing warmer temperatures and brighter days.

Meanwhile, we bundle against the frigid air, fortunate 

and glad that the most recent forecast of snow 

with near blizzard conditions, faltered and fell apart.

As I walked across the IUPUI campus Monday,

on my way to swim practice, I looked

to my right to see a student, leaning against

the frosted glass of a classroom building.

Even though his image blurred him into anonymity,

his brightly colored accent markers could

be easily recognized. Of course. 

Soutache on Limestone

Back to the little waterfall feature at Eskenazi Health,

where the water rushing past the rocks adorns 

them with icy embroidery, creating lovely soutache 

collars and lapels for the blocks of limestone.

Icy Baubles

In the late afternoon shadows of Eskenazi Health, 

the water made lacy baubles on the rocks 

of the water feature. It piled in beads, making crystal 

necklaces around the flowing water.

Bright Spot

Last Saturday, the weather was gray, all day.

After leaving a workshop at the Indianapolis Zoo around noon, 

I wended my way along the Central Canal towards 

downtown, taking pictures. The plants have wilted into

the background, their colors subtle, to match the cold.

Except for the rose hips, so big they resemble little tomatoes.

Their color stood out in brilliant contrast to

the tweedy background, like ruby brooches

on a jacket lapel.

Always There, Unnoticed

I've passed by these items for years without noticing 

their special rough/smooth relationships,

but Saturday the bark of the tree and its subtle

coloration displayed beautifully against

the smooth metallic surface of the vent.

Below, a hand rail flashed its brushed metal

surface as it curved around the retaining

wall at the Central Canal, near the fire station.

Icy Reeds

While most of the snow and ice from this area's recent 

skirmish with the Polar Vortex has melted, 

the splashed water from the water feature at Eskenazi Health 

has frozen on the reeds.

Feathery Ice

I walked to the store late this morning,

 the bright sun moving in on the frosted lawns

and pavement. Here, the ice feathers around

the corner of repaired asphalt,

bringing a bit of brief beauty to the grayed

surface of the parking lot. 

Snowy Grasses

At their full growth, these ornamental grasses are tall, 

topped by feathery plumes of seeds.

Now only about a foot tall, they catch the snow and leaves 

as they wait for spring and new growth.

More Pretty

Walking towards the entrance to the Natatorium 

late Tuesday afternoon, a crystal glimmer caught my eye.

I turned to see twigs covered in icy bangles.

The warm air, vented from inside the pool,

 had condensed on the ground cover, 

enveloping the twigs and remaining leaves 

in sequin gowns. Little sweaters, really, to protect 

them from the chilly air.

Looking for Pretty

After swimming practice Monday evening,

some of us were griping about the cold, dreary weather,

myself included. However, I had been downtown 

earlier than usual, and took the opportunity 

to walk around, determined to find something pretty 

to make a nice picture. I found browned 

hydrangeas, blood colored berries, 

and russet brick walls.

I am not a fan of brown, but the colors were 

rich when paired with each other.

Today, I will share the berries,

deep and shiny against the siennas

of the brick and mortar.

Waiting for the Ice Storm

I finally crept out of my burrow this afternoon 

to go to the store for some milk, popcorn, and a cheap pizza, 

stuff intended to tide me over until tomorrow, 

when I'll make a more massive assault 

on my grocery budget. A lot of people had the same

notion because the lines at check-out showed

that pre-blizzard frenzy had set in.

For days, it's been miserably cold, with sub-zero

temps and wind chill forcing people, like me,

to dig deep into their larder, until all that was left

was a jar of sauerkraut and a tin of sardines.

The weather was not as cold and people came out

to go get their own provisions before the

icy rain started. Milk, bread, and stick-to-your ribs

goodies were the order of the day.

Then everyone went home to watch the 

football game, Colts vs Broncos.

Tiny Icy Shrine

As I walked to the store late Thursday morning, 

I found an icy clump in the gutter.

Overnight rain had created a tiny shrine to winter,

encasing a leaf in crystalline forms.