Before I forget about them, a grab bag of pictures that I liked for one reason or another from the last few days’ worth of treks down to the woods and river.
Part of a burnt log from last season in the fire pit.
The too-easy caption: x marks the spot.
Lovely pattern -- I
Our Christmas tree, waiting to be turned into kindling. The undersides of balsam fir's needles are nice and distinct.
The balsam fir has a wound; it is crying.
See, I did it. I stood on the ice.
Next a miniature series I call Oh God No, Littering!
We've found all kinds of crap washed up on the sandbar. I'm not sure what this and I don't like to see it there, but as a picture I like it!
OK, I told myself I'd pick this up on the way back up the ravine. But then I couldn't find it. That must make me like an unintentional, second- or third-generation polluter. Anyway, I wonder how old this beer can is. They don't look like this anymore.
Couldn't resist for the color.
This is like the poor man's river-lamb ear. No idea what it might actually be.
I love me some moss.
A shiny shell against sparkly snow. Shiny plus glittery is an irresistible combination for this raccoon.
The above is a point of ice sticking out over one of the only (then-) open surfaces of the river. This is the same spot as the first picture in my post from earlier today.