Snow has finally arrived and transformed the landscape around Lake Laberge.
My house settles into winter under a mantle of snow. Little birds flutter around the feeder until the gray jays and magpies intimidate them. Occasionally, a squirrel will brave the bigger birds to scratch at the block of suet.
It's quiet and the campground is empty.
Each day during November the lake freezes a little more. It's been quite an interesting process to watch. The colours of the ice are beautiful - pinks, blues, greys, shimmering - Nature's opals.
The lake seems to be full of pinks and blues. The ice fog imparts an air of mystery to the land that seems to rise from it.
Finally, the transformation is complete - water becomes marble. On December 17, I see the first brave person walk out to chop his hole to ice fish. He's been back every day since, hauling his sled behind him, so I guess he's catching something. It won't be long before Lake Laberge becomes a thoroughfare with skidoos and trucks heading north, past Richthofen Island, each to find his own special place to chop a fishing hole in the ice.
The scenery on my drive into town has changed. Dark spruce provide a backdrop to the aspen, delicate branches outlined in frost. Pale sunlight illuminates horses searching for something to eat under a blanket of snow.
Trees have their own special beauty in this northern Narnia.
And I look for different ways to represent their beauty.
Credits:
All photos by Janet B. Webster aka The Silver Nomad