Zero Degrees

November 2025

When the morning forecast says “sunny and calm,” I can’t get out the door fast enough to take pictures. ‘Sunny and calm’ means good reflection shots of birds on water. When the morning forecast also says “snow,” it feels like I’ve won the lottery! Even if the temperature drops to zero, I’m out the door! Zero degrees just means more layers!

When layering up for cold weather, my husband Mel, who has hiked the Appalachian trail many, many times, through all kinds of weather, occasionally warns me that “cotton kills.” The first layer of clothing should never be cotton! If you sweat, it won’t evaporate. If you stay wet, you’ll stay cold. You can even die —well, not when you’re out taking pictures and your car is a stone’s throw away, but certainly if you’re a hundred miles from help and hypothermia sets in! I don’t ever worry about hypothermia when I’m out taking pictures, but I do worry about being so cold I have to come home before I’m ready.

**Black-capped Chickadee** *November 2020*

So, my first winter layer is always synthetic. After that, I throw on various layers of wool blends, more synthetics, and maybe fleece. If I think my feet will freeze, I wear toasty warm, re-chargeable socks that came as a gift from a very kind friend. On top of all those layers, I wear windproof or waterproof pants and a warm coat.

Even with all those layers and a good pair of gloves, it has taken me years to figure out how to keep my hands warm and still operate the buttons on my camera. Eventually, I found a lightweight pair of down mittens which are thin enough to feel the buttons but warm enough to keep my fingers from freezing—sort of. I still put rechargeable hand warmers in each of my pockets to make sure.

Then there’s my head, neck, and feet to worry about. I start with a neck-warmer and sometimes a scarf; followed by a cozy warm hat, and sometimes the hood of my coat. Just before going out the door, I put on my hiking boots as well as a pair of waterproof over-boots if the snow is deep or it’s exceptionally cold.

It took me a long time to work out this multi-layer system where I can stay reasonably warm—and still move!

It isn’t quite zero degrees yet, but it will be at some point. On November 8th of this year, we had our first snowfall. A few days later, it was 50 degrees. This coming week, a snowstorm is expected. Such are the vagaries of a Michigan winter and the challenges of dressing for the occasion!

**White-throated Sparrow** *November 2023*

**Red-bellied Woodpecker** *January 2022*

As much as I enjoy capturing a pretty picture of a bird in the snow, I am not a big fan of winter nor am I a glutton for punishment. I don’t like all the dreary, overcast days and the loss of color, I don’t like the freezing cold temperatures, and the lack of butterflies, dragonflies, or frogs. And I absolutely hate wearing all those stupid layers of clothes just to go outside!

That said, I do love the challenge of taking pictures in the wintertime. I love how it feels to be dressed in all those layers on a really cold day with giant snowflakes stuck to my eyelashes and feeling invincible! I love being outdoors hoping for the best picture ever, then coming home after a long winter walk to stand in front of the fire and soak up its warmth.

Most of all, at age 78, I love that I still can!

Patches of Sunlight

August 25, 2022

As I approached a new hiking trail the other day, I was disappointed to see that I might just be walking through a dark woods all morning. Normally, I love walking through the woods, but not when I’m taking pictures. It’s usually too dark, or the light is too dappled for a good picture. I seriously contemplated going somewhere else, but gave myself a little pep talk instead. Even in the darkest of woods, I reasoned, there are patches of sunlight, and in those patches of sunlight, there could be a deer, or a chipmunk, or a shiny, new spiderweb! There’s always something, I thought. So off I went.

Chipmunk caught in a patch of sunlight, and a beautiful spiderweb highlighted by the sun

This White-tailed deer was grazing in an open meadow just beyond a wooded section of trail

Hedge Bindweed and an Eastern Comma Butterfly in a ray of sunshine

As I ambled along the trail looking for things to photograph, my thoughts kept turning back to my cousin’s young son who had recently been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. I was envisioning the anguish and the heartbreak that comes with such a diagnosis and wishing there was some way to make everything all better. I thought about the dark woods ahead; the one that they were facing, and hoping they would find patches of sunlight along the way that would make their journey less difficult. An unexpected kindness, perhaps, or a hopeful word.

Pileated Woodpecker highlighted by a ray of sunshine

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly and an Eastern Amberwing dragonfly

Sometimes, the path I take through a dark woods leads me to an open meadow, or a hill top, or a pond, where the sun washes gently over everything, and the world looks like a brighter, happier place. I love when that happens! Sunshine opens up all sorts of possibilities!

Eastern Pondhawk and an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail in the sun

I loved the effect of the sunlight on this small pond

And, on one very rare occasion, as I stood quietly at the edge of a pond hidden in the woods, a bald eagle swooped down out of nowhere and captured a fish right in front of me!

Bald Eagle making a surprise catch right in front of me!

Even in the darkest of woods, there are always patches of sunlight, unexpected joys, and sometimes, glimmers of hope.

Standing Still

April 9, 2020

My picture walks began a few years ago as a way to combine a little exercise with a little picture taking. Over time, the walks have become less and less about exercise and more and more about picture taking—mostly because I stop so often to take a look that I never get very far!

Greater Yellowlegs and a Tri-colored Heron

On my walks to the various preserves and rookeries, I often see other photographers who have picked a spot to take pictures and they never move, preferring instead, to stay in one place forever! I used to think this would be an incredibly boring thing to do, that I would miss so much if I just stayed in one place. But, over time, I’ve come to appreciate the benefits of just standing still.

Sandhill Crane with offspring (called a Colt)

Sandhill Crane Colt and White Egret nestling

That’s not to say that I have ever parked myself in one spot for hours on end, but I have, on several occasions, stood in one place for a good hour or so. I have found that by parking myself in one place for a while, I become part of the landscape; the birds and the butterflies no longer notice me and go about their business as if I weren’t there. The elusive Kingfisher, which has been extremely hard for me to capture, will land on a nearby branch unaware of my presence; the Black-crowned Night Heron will perch on a fence right in front of me, and the Roseate Spoonbill, totally oblivious to my presence, will continue fishing less than 20 feet away!

Roseate Spoonbill and a Black-crowned Night Heron

When I do stand still for a while and just observe what is going on around me, I find it very calming. I am so absorbed in what I might find, that it’s easy to forget life’s worries.

Male Four-spotted Pennant and a Female Needham’s Skimmer

Black-bellied Whistling Ducks and a White Egret

With the recent introduction of this deadly coronavirus into our lives, we are, as an entire planet, collectively standing still. We can look upon this time of isolation and social distancing as a colossal state of boredom, frustration and angst, or as an opportunity to more closely observe the life around us and to take stock of what’s truly important.

There is much that is beautiful to be found.

Be still. Be safe. Be well.