This image is made up of 4, portrait oriented images, stitched together.
Standing (safely) on the first mound of shelf ice. I say "safely" because I know the beach is underneath me, not cold Lake Michigan. If I were to venture any further to the right, I would be standing on ice that formed over water, and was only connected to the shore at the surface - like a shelf; hence the term "shelf ice."
Barely visible are two people walking down the beach - they certainly give some scale to the amount of ice here at the shore. It extends hundreds of feet out into Lake Michigan. The wind and waves kick up the floating drift ice, it piles up near the shore in mounds over 15 feet tall. Then a calm period follows where more drift ice forms, followed by another windy day of ice piling up, and so on. This creates the series of ice mounds seen here.
Shelf ice lines the beach of the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. Weeks of cold weather, and high waves have mounded up ice over 15 feet high, and hundreds of feet into Lake Michigan. These thick ice mounds are often peppered with paper-thin covered holes leading directly into the 34 degree lake below. As inviting as it may seem to walk out onto them, it may the your last hike. The ice is attached to the shore, but not the bottom, thus the name "shelf ice." It often breaks off and rolls into the cold lake, creating a dangerous environment for people.
Two people walk along the shore, looking for a place for sledding. It's prohibited in the National Lakeshore.
At the "end" of our canyon walk, two waterfalls empty into the creek. In winter, they generally freeze into solid columns of ice. This one has just started to form a column, and the indent in the canyon wall provides a great place to crawl into to view the back-lit ice.
The ceiling of the cave is about 15 feet above the ground, and the column of ice is about 8 feet wide.
Surrounded by huge icicles, and frigid Lake Michigan, Chris takes a photograph of me, taking a photograph of him. We're on the pier in St. Joseph, Michigan capturing the ice formations on the outer lighthouse and the catwalk. The catwalk was built so lighthouse keepers wouldn't need to worry too much about washing over the side when it's wavy on the lake. Looks as if the keeper wouldn't be able to get to the light after this period of freezing spray.
Pancake ice, that is. As the lake water freezes near the St. Joseph, Michigan lighthouse, ice forms. The wind and wave action constantly move the pieces of ice, and they pack together in circles-growing radially forming these interesting circles.
The ones here were about five feet in diameter.
Perhaps they should call them kolache ice, as they appear to have a fruit filling in the center.
A closer view of the outer light of the St. Joseph, Michigan range lights. The ice and snow give the lighthouse the look of cake frosting.
This week, the temperature climbed up near 60 degrees, so I'm assuming the ice no longer covers the lighthouses of lower Lake Michigan. Temperatures are falling today, so perhaps a fresh batch of ice will be clinging to this tower soon.
One can't help but notice the thick ice on the lighthouses of the Great Lakes in winter, but a closer look often yields some very interesting formations. While carefully moving toward the windward side of the outer light - through an arch created by the ice hanging between the tower and a cable - I captured the view up toward the lantern.
The tons of ice hanging above created an interesting "room" resembling the interior of a cave, complete with stalactites and stalagmites.
Although they are millions of miles apart, the Moon and Jupiter appear only a few degrees apart tonight, January 21, 2013. This conjunction of Jupiter and the Moon is the closest they will appear until 2026.
It was worth standing in the 8 degree cold for a few moments to capture this image.
Not much growing during this time of year, but interesting things can often be found if you look around. These wildflowers dried out a long time ago, but still dot the landscape.
Little Red Schoolhouse Nature Preserve.
Another test for the new lens....
Built in 1886, this one room schoolhouse served the local residents of Palos Park, Illinois for decades. Around 1915, the landscape changed from mostly agriculture to forest as the Cook County Forest Preserve was established. The number of pupils declined until the school was closed, and tuned into a nature learning center.
Today, a modern facility stands a few feet away, and this building stands empty once again. I hope the future includes a school museum, with exhibits outlining the daily lives of the school teachers and children of the Little Red Schoolhouse.
