There were layer upon layer of leaves, filling the creek bed up onto the banks.

The reflected trees, now bare of the same leaves that line the water below, along with that reflected sky full of blue and white, that’s what caught my attention. Then I looked below the water and noticed the endless layers of leaves.

Many folks would just walk by on the boardwalk that separated the pond from the creek. I chose to look down, and then look further, under the surface.

There’s a lot more to life than what passes quickly by. Spend time with life that flows around you. You just might find much more that first meets the eye.

I’m glad I look down as well as up.

That’s the kind of sky I like to see on any day, let alone in the depths of winter. The tall prairie grass is a nice color to warm up the scene.

This is a new place that I explored for the first time the other day. The Ostermeier Prairie Center, part of the Lincoln Memorial Garden in Springfield, Illinois.

The prairie grass is tall, left to grow to its natural height. When Abraham Lincoln settled in central Illinois, 93% of the State was prairie grass, broken only by clumps of trees, mostly around rivers and creeks. There was over 22 million acres of prairie grass. These days, the prairie grass is found mostly in places of protection such as this.

I spent a delightful hour or so, walking some of the trails through the tall grass. The sun and sky were my companions. A Whippoorwill calling out was my sound track for a while, before the crows got into the act.

At one point, I heard a flock of geese flying by. They sounded so close, I was sure I could see them, but as I looked all around, they were out of sight. Then I looked up. Holy Mackerel! There were hundreds of geese in flying “V” formations, high overhead. The sky was full of them, from horizon to horizon as I gazed up wards. I stood in stunned silence, watching as the passed out of sight.

What a day.

Too many days with the grayness of winter had me heading for a color infusion.

I went to the Washington Park Botanical Garden, where there’s an arboretum that is full of tropical plants, and a few birds. Next weekend is the orchid society show, but I was able to enjoy the resident orchids and soothe my winter weary eyes with some bright colors.

Lavender was my mother’s favorite color. My sister would say any shade of purple would do Likely mom would say the same. This orchid was hanging above my head, a perfect position and just the most perfect color combination.

Instead of whining about the cold, rain and gray clouds, I knew exactly were to go.

I’m glad I went.

I almost passed this image opportunity up.

After taking a morning walk in Riverside Park, as I was leaving, I noticed the horses out in a large stable yard, eating their breakfast. The hay, alfalfa, whatever it is, was placed in about twenty piles in a football-sized area. The horses were clustered around the piles, heads down and munching.

There really was no parking area set aside for me to pull over, so I made my own. I k-turned around, and parked near a cross-roads where there was a spot that would get my car out of the way.

I switched lenses and walked over to the fence. Clearly marked, do not trespass, and do not feed the horses, I was careful to keep my distance as I walked up and down the fence, looking for the right photo compositions.

The fog was just a haze in the distance, seen here in the background. You can tell how cold it was, by the foggy breath that the horse has put out in the grain. I also noticed a steam cloud, in the right background, likely coming up from the output of one of these beautiful beasts.

What I found fascinating was the behavior of the horses. Some were keeping to one pile, heads down all the time and munching away. Others would stay a while at one location, then move to another for what appeared to be no reason. There was at least one horse, that had a pile to themselves, and no other horses would approach. Some communal rules in evidence perhaps. This horse was occasionally nudging the pile, trying to uncover some possible tasty nugget.

Never pass up the opportunity when it comes to you. A good habit to practice.

There was fog last night as the cold air moved in, covering the warm moist earth with a gauzy blanket of white.

There’s a special type of light that happens with fog. I want to find it and use it. Typically, this means getting up early or staying up late, as the conditions for fog occur most frequently with the change of night into day. Soon after sunrise, the fog is most often swiftly diminished to nothing with the warm rays of the sun. Not always, but most of the time.

I should have gotten up before the sunrise.

Here, a field of prairie grass is covered in frost from the overnight chill, and there’s just a hint of the fog left, seen as a haze in the distance. The light of the rising sun is shining on over half of the field, and can most clearly be seen on the trees to the right of frame.

Those trees remind me of soldiers, standing at attention in the light of a superior officer performing an inspection. They stand before the sun and soak up the light.

Another day, I’m resolving to get up before the sun and get the elusive fog images that fill my mind with anticipation.

One day.