Revisiting the Winter River

On Friday, I waited and waited until the weak winter sun could coax the temperature to 4 above zero before suiting up to return to the snowy riverbank I first photographed for this blog five years ago.  And  look!  Except for maybe the trees being a little taller, nothing at all has changed!  How lucky I am to live in a region where landscapes as lovely as this are protected forever.  Or at least, for as long as I'm likely to live.  And how lucky I am, too, that I still have the health and strength and forbearance for cold that allow me to tromp about in the winter woods and enjoy its beauties.

The animals who live in this forest were still huddled snug in their dens, so I did not see a single track in the snow to indicate they'd been out and about.  The river,  though, had left plenty of evidence of its rising and falling, freezing and thawing,  by the sinuous lines that were etched on the ice near the shore.

Always, always, there's always something of beauty just waiting to be discovered along these shores.  The Highbush Blueberry buds were glowing a Christmassy red beneath a mantle of snow.
 

But the Winterberries sure took the prize for the richest red.