I hate winter. I hate the cold, I hate how it makes your fingers hurt. I hate how it reminds me of my advancing years as I struggle harder each year to breathe in cold air. I hate having to move snow. I hate the growing awareness of how dangerous it is to drive on icy streets and drifting highways. I hate the heaviness of the clothing necessary to wear winter. I hate how difficult it is to walk or move in general when the ground is snowy or icy. I take no joy in sledding down a hill with the impossible prospect of trudging back up to the top of it awaiting me. I hate the absence of life in the landscapes, like a post-apocalyptic wasteland. I hate the smothering, suffocating, claustrophobic feeling that a thick blanket of snow give the world.
I hate winter.
But I absolutely adore well-done photographs of snow. Every once in awhile I give it a shot myself, probably only two or three serious attempts a year. Each year I get better, both in the quality of the photographs I take and in the amount of time it takes me to get them (each year increases the sense of urgency, because I can tolerate the cold outdoors for a smaller duration than last time). This is one of only a dozen shots I was able to get over the weekend, being unable to tolerate the time it would take to do more. I’m fairly pleased with it in the sense that I captured the snow the way I wanted to, with sharp but not overpowering contrasts, no area really blown out, and highlighting lovely textures and shadows. In retrospect I wonder if I shouldn’t have added a polarizing filter to me lens, but I think that with the power of Lightroom and various plugins I’m able to achieve the same filter effects, and with more precision, in post-processing, so that doesn’t worry me too much.
It almost makes winter worthwhile.