Openings in the Ice

Depending upon the weather, atmospheric conditions, and elevation, the Chicago skyline can often be seen across Lake Michigan from some 48 miles away. During the winter, the horizon is blocked by ice mounds that can reach 15 feet in height, and this can block the view of the skyline. Of course, climbing the dunes will change the perspective, and allow visitors to see over the ice mounds. 

At this time of year, when the ice is breaking up and melting, windows between mounds can be discovered, offering a view of the skyline from beach level.

 

As the ice melts, it reveals areas of the beach which were covered by heavy ice mounds. These depressions in the sand can take on interesting shapes, and often fill with meltwater. The water's levels change with the lake, and with the melting of the ice beneath the sand, and these changes can be seen in the patterns around the depressions. Each line indicates where the water level was at a certain point in time. 

As the weather warms, the ice under the sand melts, and walking along the shore can be tricky, at certain points, the sand has not yet sank or compressed after thawing, and your feet can sink into the wet sand. I've sunk into the sand in some areas up to my knees - it's quite a shock to suddenly sink into what feels like quicksand. It's best to walk a bit inland at this time of year.

Waning Shelf Ice

The shelf ice continues to melt along the Lake Michigan shoreline, creating interesting, ever-changing formations. The tall mounds of ice quickly begin to shift and crack, revealing the faults and holes that could be dangerous or even deadly if covered by thin ice or snow. As the waves pound the ice mounds, they're undercut and can break away from the ice mass at any time.

 

Walking safely along the shore, these mounds appear thick and substantial enough to walk on, but the undercutting by the waves, and the shifting of the ice mass makes this an even more dangerous time to venture onto the ice shelf. The movement of the ice creates faults and thin areas where one can easily fall through. Imagine being on an ice mound when it suddenly breaks off and rolls into the freezing lake - I'll stand on firm ground.

 

The bright sunlight creates a fantastic contrast between the white ice and the dark sand and water. Walking along the shore one can see the intricate details of the ice, while climbing onto a dune gives an overall view of the entire ice shelf. Imagine this ice lining the entire shore of Lake Michigan, this is only a tiny selection of what waits to be discovered.

Ice Field on Lake Michigan

As a spell of warmer weather hits the area, the ice and snow begin to melt a bit, exposing some of the sand that sits on the ice mounds along the lake. The sand was kicked up onto the mounds as they formed, and now gets concentrated as some ice melts on the surface of the mounds. These mounds are about 15 feet tall, and will remain in place even as the temperatures climb. Some of them are resting on the bottom of the shallows along the shore, while others were only floating on the surface of the water. It's the floating ones that are most affected by warmer weather; they crack, break and wash away rather quickly.

Here you can see holes in the mounds, proving that these are not always solid, and can be hollow inside. Walking on what seems to be a thick, solid chunk of ice can be deadly if a hollow spot is only covered by a thin sheet of ice. These hollow spots often lead directly to the frigid waters of Lake Michigan where there is no escape.

 

So many formations can be seen in the ice. These mounds often remind me of mountains seen from a high altitude, and in this formation where a small, blue pond has formed and frozen, this really looks like a landscape seen from high above.

Convergence

A warm, overcast day on the Lake Michigan Shore resulted in some ice mounds beginning to break up. As we made it to the shore, the sand dunes rolled into the distant ice mounds on the lake; they matched each other's shape perfectly. Then further out, a horizontal band of water matched the horizontal bands of clouds in the sky - a convergence of shapes. 

This year's shelf ice mounds have built up to a good height and reach quite far into the lake (although I've seen the mounds stretch hundreds and hundreds of feet further). The warmer weather at the beginning of the year, the brutal cold spells with warmer weather in between have created some interest in the ice. One day the ice covers the lake as far as one can see, the next day, the wind changes direction and pushes the floe ice away from the shore. 

As usual, something new to see every time I visit. Today's visit, while cloudy, made for a very dramatic sky in the background, with muted elements in the midground, and deep warmth in the foreground. A trifecta in a way. Of course, things changed even as we left the park a few hours later.

Ice Along the Shore

 

Looking beyond the shelf ice on a clear day, one could see the Chicago skyline in the distance. Some 38 miles across the lake, if you look closely, you'll notice the bottom of the buildings are missing, this is due to the curvature of the earth - sorry flat-earthers. I you were to climb the dunes directly behind, more of the buildings would be visible due to the higher vantage point. The waves are pounding the outer ends of the shelf ice, splashing high up onto the ice mounds. This process is both tearing down the ice, and building it up. Loose pieces will break off from the wave action, but those chunks will be tossed up onto the ice mounds and frozen back into place in the cold temperatures.

If you look at the shelf ice from a distance, you can see the progression of how the ice was formed. Where there are mounds, the day was cold, windy, and the lake was wavey. This type of environment lifts and throws the ice chunks onto the edge of the ice where it grows taller, and wider. When the winds die down, floe ice will bump into the mounds and freeze in place forming flat areas of the shelf ice. When the waves begin again, ice mounds form ont he edges of the flat areas, making more and more tall mounds. At times, these ice formations can extend hundreds of feet into Lake Michigan. Floe ice will then get pushed into the shelf ice by gentle winds, and this ice can extend as far as the eye can see, making the lake appear to be frozen solid - but it's not.

   

 No matter the weather, creeks and streams continue to flow into Lake Michigan. At this time, Kintzele Ditch was not frozen, and you could watch it flow up to and then under the shelf ice. Even when the ditch is frozen, it's still flowing into the lake. I've been to this area in extremely cold weather, and if you listen, you can hear the water flowing under the ice, and sometimes see a cave-like area the flowing water carved through the ice.

The lakeshore changes quickly, often in a day or less, and in winter, the ice does the same. Every visit in winter, brings something brand new.

Matthiessen's Lower Dells

 

Wintertime in Illinois' Matthiessen State Park is always interesting. From the warm canyon walls, to the frozen waterfalls, the "fire and ice" theme is well represented here. The lower dell area is an often overlooked part of the park. It's the longest hike, with the most stairs, but it can also be closed due to flooding or extremely muddy conditions. When it is accessible, it's well worth the hike.

There are a few caves along the canyon walls, very near Cascade Falls pictured here. They're large enough to walk through, but quite short. One of the reasons this park is excellent during the winter is the fact that the creek runs all winter, and does not dry out, so the waterfalls are always running, and in winter, they're frozen solid and feature-filled.

 

The sun was getting a bit low in the sky, highlighting the snow and ice, and hiding the shaded canyon walls. The frozen falls are approximately 50 feet tall to the first ledge, and probably able to be climbed by ice climbers with the proper gear. I'm glad we hiked through here before any climbers, because they can often break off large pieces of ice, and almost always break off thousands of small pieces making the falls look far from perfect. They do, however, make for excellent photographic subjects.

   

 Walking through the majestic canyon, one can often miss small things on the canyon floor, like this chunk of ice. This caught my eye after seeing the sky reflected in the ice. The colors and light are very unusual in an environment generally consisting of only white, brown, and green.

Distant Lighthouse

Even after a week of above freezing temperatures, the Lake Michigan shelf ice remains, and in fact, is probably growing larger due to the pounding waves of the lake. The mounds build parallel to the shoreline, and each mound represents a period of high winds and waves. When the waves subside, the hill no longer builds, and some level areas can form. Once the waves begin again, new mounds will form farther into the lake. This process happens over and over until a huge field of mounds forms.
    

In the distance, the Michigan City East Pierhead lighthouse can be seen; just a few miles away. The rolling ice mounds in the foreground create what appears to be a mountain range seen from the air, further making the winter Lake Michigan shore something spectacular to view. 

There isn't much time left in winter, so get out to the Indiana Dunes National Park to view the ice in person. Winter is a fantastic time to walk on the beach.

Arctic Volcanos

Looking much more like the arctic than Indiana, a walk on the Lake Michigan shore during winter offers some interesting ice formations one normally associates with seascapes of the North. As the wind stirs up Lake Michigan, the waves pound the shore and pile up the floating ice into cone-shaped mounds resembling volcanos. The physics is actually rather similar, at least when it comes to the construction of the cone. When the waves pound against the shore or other shelf ice, waves force water and ice chunks into the solid structure where they splash up and fall onto the shore in a pile. This happens over and over again until the pile forms a cone around the area where the ice and water is splashing vertically. The center often remains hollow, a tube that transports the ice and water to the surface. Volcano cones are formed in a similar way, but by hot lava and molten rock spraying up, not ice. 

Walking along the shore during the windy periods is something to experience as well. When hiking down the sand dunes onto the beach, almost all sounds disappear when you reach the area that is sheltered by row after row of ice mounds. You're basically walking in a hallway with ice mounds on one side, and sand dunes on the other. The only sounds are the muffled splashes of the distant waves continuing to build additional mounds.
   

Hiking down to Kintzele Ditch, some of the shelf ice is covered by frozen ponds formed by the always-flowing creek. These icy areas take on the look of ponds, and seem to mimic an arctic seascape where icebergs are scattered in the frozen waters - mounds among smooth ice. These features and forms of the ice are ever-changing, and worth a visit or two each winter.

Matthiessen's Ice Cave

 

One of the highlights of the winter season is the freezing of the waterfalls of Starved Rock and Matthiessen State Parks. While the amount of seasonal moisture certainly affects the size and shape of Starved Rock's icefalls, the icefalls of Matthiessen State Park are almost always fully formed regardless of  precipitation. I believe this is due to the fact that the creek feeding the falls is always flowing and not fully dependent on the snow melt or rain. This makes for great icefalls in the winter. 

One of our favorite areas of Matthiessen is the canyon beyond Cedar Point. To visit this area, one needs to cross the creek, and at times, this can be a challenge. Some years it's flowing knee deep, other years it's frozen solid, this year it was frozen but had quite a bit of "rotten" ice on top due to overflow. Overflow is when a body of water freezes over, but the level of the water later rises and overflows onto the top of the ice. New ice forms, but it's not stable, and walking on the ice can be a hazard if that overflow ice breaks- here we would only get our feet wet, so it's more of a nuisance.

Once across the stream, two waterfalls appear in the distance, and both usually freeze up with plenty of space behind them, creating ice caves. At just the right time, one can relatively easily get behind and explore. Wait too long into the season and the opening will be too small to climb through.

 

This year, we hit it at the right time. The ice was covering the overhang of the canyon forming a cave, the openings were accessible, and the floor of the cave was frozen and not filled with water. It's an experience to venture into these caves, the ice is so interesting when it's backlit. Without ice cleats, it would be quite difficult to access these caves, and at times, impossible to even access the icefalls because of the slippery approach.

 

The rock overhang that makes these ice caves possible, is almost six feet tall, so when the ice forms on the floor, there's a ceiling of about five feet in some places, on down to four feet. Still, it's quite easy to access if you don't mind a bit of squeezing and climbing. Getting out is sometimes sketchy, but this year, the opening on the left side of the cave was large enough to walk through. Some years only one side is large enough, and the right side requires traversing over round, icy rock - something that's more difficult leaving than entering.

The Ice Barrier

 

 

The period of cold, windy weather over the last few weeks provided the perfect conditions for the formation of shelf ice along the Lake Michigan shoreline. As the water freezes, the wind and waves push the ice chunks toward the shore where they pile up and freeze together with the water splashes an spray. Over time, the ice builds up higher and higher, and the mounds grow up and out, creating an arctic-like range of ice hills parallel to the shore.

   

Walking carefully along the beach (on solid ground not ice) looking at the formations of the mounds and the flat areas between them, one feels as if they're in the arctic instead of Indiana. Winter at the Indiana Dunes National Park is like nowhere else in the state, a treasure for certain.

 

The French Canyon Icefall

 

On our hike through Starved Rock State Park, we ventured down the icy steps toward French Canyon, a blind canyon with a cascading waterfall at the terminal end of the trial. 

The narrow passages are sometimes difficult to walk over in wet weather, but rather treacherous when iced over. Of all the places to visit at Starved Rock, this is the only one with signs warning of the dangerous icy conditions. Other canyons have steep drops and ledges which you'd think would be more dangerous, but this canyon can fool people because of it's innocent looking approach. So many people attempt to walk up the trail and either fall or give up. It's trails such as this that demand the use of ice cleats, and wearing them, one can simply walk up the icy approach with no concern. 

The waterfall in French Canyon does not freefall, it travels over the rock face and, in cold weather, the ice covers the entire surface, creating a beautiful ice staircase up the canyon wall. Of course at 45 feet high, it's too tall and too dangerous to use as a staircase, but because of this geography here, this waterfall almost always guarantees a beautiful formation of ice.

 

A few years back, a couple of trees fell into the creek, and ultimately into the canyon; these logs remain at the foot of the falls. The logs now act as a centerpiece on the canyon floor, adding some natural interest to the waterfall. 

On this visit to Starved Rock, French Canyon's frozen waterfall was the most impressive of all the canyons we visited. Perhaps this will change once the current snow melts and refreezes while falling down the other rockfaces.

LaSalle Canyon's Frozen Waterfall

Even though I love hot weather, and don't really like winter, I actually look forward to the frozen waterfalls of Northern Illinois, specifically the many frozen falls found in Starved Rock and Matthiessen State Parks. All I do is complain about the cold weather, but somehow, I have absolutely no problem being out in the freezing cold and wind when I am exploring these canyons and the Lake Michigan shore. It's as if the thought of what I may find overrides the physical extremes I endure. I honestly do not wear gloves when I'm out photographing (unless I'm carrying a tripod), and have no problem handling a camera in 15° Fahrenheit, or even in -5° Fahrenheit. I find it much more comfortable and efficient to place my hands in my coat pocket as I hike around, then handle the camera with my bare hands. So far, so good, no frostbite!

With the temperatures in Illinois dropping below 0° over the past few days, I figured the waterfalls of Starved Rock would be frozen and impressive. After heading out today, I found the falls to be moderately frozen. I suspect the dry Fall, and Winter so far starved the falls of runoff and snowmelt, preventing the falls from building up. Even though they were relatively small, they're always a thrill to explore and photograph.
   

The first canyon we visited was LaSalle - one of my favorites due to the fact that the ice usually forms a curtain across most of the rock overhang, and one can walk behind the frozen falls. This time, there was only a single column of ice to view. I imagine with the warming temperatures of the next week, the snow in the high ground of the park will begin to melt, and then freeze at night, adding to the size of the icefalls. I'll head back in a week or two!
   

As we arrived at the park, the clouds parted and the sun washed the canyon walls with warm light, providing a strong contrast to the frigid subjects of our exploration. It's amazing how warm the canyons can appear on such cold days; the rock walls are often covered in deep green mosses and bathed in yellow light. It's interesting how this sight can actually keep you from thinking about the cold.

We left LaSalle Canyon feeling a bit underwhelmed, but encouraged by the thoughts of what the other canyons may hold for us.

The Occultation of Mars

Not only was tonight's full moon a wolf moon, but it also took the opportunity to hide one of our neighbors - Mars. A relatively rare event called an occultation took place. Rare at least for individual areas on earth. Similar to an eclipse, the moon and Mars need to align to our perspective, so the moon passes in front of the planet, hiding it from view for about an hour. 

Today's occultation took place between 8:07 PM and 9:17 PM, where Mars disappeared at the bottom left of the moon, and reappeared at the top.

It was said you could watch with the unaided eye, but we didn't see anything until Mars was quite a distance from the moon, probably due to the glare. With a camera and 1100mm lens set up, it was visible and really quite red. 

 The series of images here were taken handheld, with no tripod. It's not unusual to capture images of the moon handheld; it's really quite bright. However, I would have been happier using my tripod, but it was 80 miles away. 

The image below shows Mars as it just peeks over the top of the moon.




This image shows Mars a few moments after it reappeared from behind the Moon.

Autumn in the Sugar Bush

 

 One of the most spectacular displays of Fall color in the Indiana Dunes National Park is the sugar bush at the Chellberg Farm. Consisting mostly of maple and beech trees, this ravine is ablaze in golden Fall color every autumn. The elevation changes between the creek and top level immerse you in color and texture, allowing you to take in the trees from almost every angle. 

Down inside the ravine, the canopy overhead appears to be on fire during sunny days, especially when contrasted against the shaded creek bed. Looking down into the ravine allows you to see the colorful tops of these trees, something normally reserved for the birds of the park, because even though there are plenty of high vantage points, most other areas of the park are covered in oak trees that are not quite as striking in autumn.

   

Certainly one of my favorite places to visit in Fall, this ravine is also home to the annual maple sugar time, a celebration of the maple syrup roots of this area. Each March, the park offers quick tour of the maple sugar process, from the Native American methods to the modern methods of the Chellberg's utilizing a wood-fired boiler in the sugar shack. 

No dunes, no sand, no lake, but this part of the Indiana Dunes National Park has some of the most striking color anywhere in Northwest Indiana.

The Bridge to Burnham Island

 

 Autumn is the perfect time to visit Chicago's Graceland Cemetery. A private cemetery founded in 1860, Graceland is the final resting place for many of Chicago's famous people such as Marshall Field, Louis Sullivan, McCormick, Potter Palmer, Minnie Minoso. 

In addition to the famous names and incredible monuments, the cemetery is a registered arboretum, offering beautiful views in every direction. Daniel Burnham, a famous Chicago architect, is buried on a small island in Lake Willowmere, the beautiful lake on the west end of the cemetery. A footbridge surrounded by Maple trees leads visitors to his final resting place, marked by a simple granite boulder. Views from the island include the monuments of the McCormick family, Potter Palmer. William Goodman, and Ernie Banks. 

The cemetery draws visitors from all around the world, but is a go-to for locals who frequently walk through the beautifully manicured lanes taking in the scenery.

Comet Over the Grassland

About an hour after sunset, I headed out to the Orland Grassland to capture a rare occurance in the night sky, a comet. Comet C/2023 A3 Tsuchinshan-Atlas to be exact. While the comet is supposed to be visible to the naked eye, here near Chicago, the sky is simply too bright for it to stand out. I suspect it will be more visible in dark sky areas, but it's so close to the horizon after sunset, I don't expect it to rise high enough to view later at night, but traveling at speeds over 150,000 miles per hour, it is getting higher each day -and farther away from earth as well. 

 The comet is supposed to be visible through the end of October, so get out and see it soon before it slowly disappears into the vastness of the night sky. But don't worry, it will return close to earth again in another 80,000 years, providing it holds together that long.

Vivid Beach

 

 Spring is an awesome time to explore nature, things are waking up, sprouting, and beginning to look their best. And spring days are often surprisingly unsettled too, one minute clouds, the next minute full sun. This was one of those days as we arrived at Mt. Baldy to hike the woods and the beach. The sky was overcast, but there was a bit of optimism looking at the blue sky to the west, and sure enough, as we turned around at our usual halfway point, Kintzele Ditch, the sun came out in full force. 

 Bright sun in the spring often creates great vivid colors, especially against a deep blue sky, and with the newly opened, bright green oak leaves on the trees of the dune. The colors look almost impossibly vivid, yet I actually had to reduce the saturation in post. I never increase the saturation of a photo, and almost never need to decrease it, but the light and optics were almost too perfect on this particular morning.  

A week later, and this sand will begin to fill up with beachgoers ready to bathe in the sun, and splash in the water. An empty beach like this will not be seen again until October, so I really took some time and enjoyed it.

Curious Hummingbird

Hummingbirds are curious creatures I think. I see them frequenting the feeders and flowers of the area, and don't seem all that bothered by people unless they move quickly. I suspect they know they can move faster than us, so there's no reason to fear anything slower than them.

On this evening, I was photographing the setting sun and noticed the hummingbirds flying around, so I couldn't resist trying to capture them on camera. Of course, the situation couldn't be worse - low light, shooting directly into the setting sun, and a silhouetted bird - all of which call for slow shutters speeds, and high ISO which usually ruins images. These were taken with an ISO of 10,000 and a slow shutter speed (for a 600mm lens in low light) of 1/400th of a second.

I hope to capture more of this guy in the weeks to come, but using a fast shutter to stop the 3000 beat per minute wings. With the correct light, and up to a 1/32,000 of a second shutter speed, I should have no problem freezing them, the challenge is getting them in focus.  

While not perfectly happy with these results, they do tell a story of this little guy's curiosity with me and my camera. He would feed for a bit, then fly toward my camera and sit there checking me out, then fly long and high loop-de-loop arcs over me. I have seen this before when other hummingbirds come near, the male often flies in these arcs, I'm not sure if it's intimidation, or something else. 

It is interesting to watch them, and pretty easy as they need to feed every 25 minutes or so, and often frequent the same flowers or feeders. In fact, hummingbirds have been known to visit the same feeders each year, and during migration, they visit the exact same feeder on the exact same day of the year! And many of these hummingbirds fly over a portion of the Gulf of Mexico, not bad for a tiny creature that drinks nectar.

Unrolling

 

 

One of the highlights of spring at the Indiana Dunes National Park, is the progress the emerging ferns make in such a short time. In a shaded area just outside of the wetlands in Cowles Bog, a rather large group of ferns has taken hold and flourished. 

I find myself visiting a few times each spring to see the fiddleheads unrolling, and marveling at the detail of each one. They're all slightly different, but an astonishing feature is that each of the small leaves of the larger frond looks exactly like a miniature version of the frond itself.

They're especially interesting to me when backlit by the morning sun, as the light shines through the translucent leaves.

   

On this particular visit, I spent about three hours photographing these particular fiddleheads. For reference, each one is about the size of a U.S. quarter, and packed with details. I'm not exactly certain how long it takes for the fiddleheads to open up, but I'm sure it's relatively quick. Once open, these ferns will reach a height of six feet! 

Walking through this area in summer reminds me of a trip through the Jurassic period of geologic time. Ferns date back to the Devonian period (about 360 millions years ago), but the current type of fern appeared around the Cretaceous period (145 million years ago). So, they really are a prehistoric life form.

 

Similar to the freezing of Illinois waterfalls, and the icing of Lake Michigan Lighthouses, the unrolling ferns are something that I look forward to each year. Unlike the cold weather-dependent subjects, the ferns are much more reliable, almost to the calendar date each year. 

With the increase in visitors to the Indiana Dunes National Park, and the very limited parking at Cowles Bog, it's getting a bit more difficult to see the ferns, but arriving early and being patient waiting for a spot to open up is worth the effort.

Serene Pond on the Upland Trail

 

The weather on our hike through the Upland Trail of Pinhook Bog ranged from mostly sunny to overcast and dark. As we made our way through the stands of beech and pine, we encountered a pond hidden away in the woods. This trail winds through the meadows and woods right next to a quaking bog called Pinhook. Some of the features of that bog could be seen in the distance through the trees - tamarack trees specifically. That portion of the park is only open to guided tours in the summer months, but this trail is open year-round.

I wondered as I walked near this pond, why this area is a pond, and why the area just a few hundred feet away was a bog? I suspect the actual 500 acre bog was formed when an ice block from the last glacial period broke off, stayed in the kettle pit it formed, and melted. Over years, plant materials filled the bog, forming peat. With no exchange of water from streams or springs, the bog water becomes stagnant and nutrient poor. The pond we encountered on this hike, while very close to the bog, seems to be creek fed, therefor the water exchange is much greater, keeping the environment more "normal."



The elevation change on the Upland Trail is only around 90 feet, and it's gradual. On the descent, the pond could be seen through the woods from time to time, creating a bit of suspense as we moved forward. Would the woods open up to a view, or would this be the best view possible? It turned out that the trail offered clear view of the pond at the lowest point of the trail. Frogs, ducks, geese, turkey, skunk, and a variety of birds were all seen during this brief period of the afternoon.

I'm looking forward to visiting the bog this summer, when it opens up, and also to tasting the wild blueberries that grow along the floating walkway.