Maine’s coldest days provide opportunity to seek out unique and transparent patterns in ice formations. The images in this quadtych were taken over a couple of weeks on Belgrade Stream.
They depict the simple elegance and dynamic nature of ice. As temperatures rise and fall, the ice responds with an array of natural designs. The designs last only briefly until the next temperature transition. The action of water absorbing and emitting energy is known as “phase transition.” Ice, like humans, goes through various transitions constantly.
I love hearing Canada geese squawking overhead during their fall migration. The sound is timeless. I was born in a farm country in central New York when migrating geese were abundant, as they found good wind, easy terrain, and plentiful corn fields. I set out this past fall to photograph farmland that is disappearing, as land use transitions into car dealerships, double-wide mobile home lots, and Dollar Stores.
This area has also been populated by windmills. I was struck by the juxtaposition of geese traversing the sky with windmills swirling below. I saw it as something old with something new, low tech and high tech, and realized how both can coexist.
I stood in the middle of a cornfield at the end of the growing season and just looked. I became fascinated by the chaotic stalk leaves, the puckered kernels in the ear, and the tangled silk at the tip of the cob. I took my camera out hoping to capture the immersive feeling of being in this cornfield, finding beauty in the remnants of the growing season.
I remember, years ago, plucking a fresh ear off a stalk and eating it. Nothing tasted juicier or sweeter. This ear is not destined for a kitchen table or a cattle feed bin. But has the possibility of bringing delight to a crow or a deer. It’s perfect for their picking. Corn, as it transitions from seed to stalk, to ear to decay, is a reminder of the circle of life.