The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

There were two belts of fog tonight: one started above the open channel of the Big Muddy and expanded until it covered the entire river, and the second engulfed east Mandan along I-94. It was downright thick, folks. I was able to hike out along the rip rap lining the boat dock south of Merriwether’s. Actually, I hope I was above the rock; I’d hate to think I was standing on frozen river, as that’d be pretty hazardous! Just kidding…I was standing where the weeds stuck up through the snow.

I tried a number of different exposures and framings, but the fog was advancing rapidly. I settled on this shot since a good portion of the bridge was still visible. It wasn’t long before the entire thing was obscured and I was free to hike back to my warm truck for the drive home to my warm bed. That’s where I’m heading now!

I did venture out of the truck a bit in this area. The snow was drifted in pretty hard, and it was solid enough in most places to keep me from breaking through. Of course, once I got way out there, I’d sink past my knees. Grrrr.

I do have a happy story to tell you about an encounter with a snow plow (well, payloader with a blade and snow gate) a week or so ago. I have a sidewalk across my boulevard that I never use, so I don’t shovel it. This night, however, my mom was over to babysit and I didn’t want her having to deal with the deep snow. As a result, I was out with my spade and grain shovel, dutifully chopping at the snow berm pushed up by recent plow passes.

I’m a “letter of the law” kind of guy when I get belligerent, and the snow on either side of the walk I’d cleared was quite high. Therefore, once I got to the end of the sidewalk and past the curb, I started pitching the snow forward instead of to the side. After all, I was not putting snow from private property onto public; rather, I was just rearranging the snow already on the street. At least, that’s how I saw it.

The aforementioned snow removal operator pulled up in front of me, saw what I was doing, and came to a stop. I actually expected a window or door to open and some sort of scolding to come my way; after all, it was about the time that the radio stations were airing reports of citizens being cited for throwing snow into alleys or onto roads. I couldn’t have been more surprised with what happened next.

The operator backed up, dropped his (or her) blade, and pushed the snow I’d just chiseled my way through. He cleared the area in front of my sidewalk and part of my boulevard, and cut a nice clear path along the curb for much of my yard. He angled his loader in such a way that it pushed the snow out of the way and up onto the boulevard. In a matter of seconds, and with one single swipe, he’d done more than I could have with my silly little spade.

It was dark and the loader had plenty of lights on it, so I couldn’t see into the cab. But as the loader backed up from pushing the snow out of the way, I threw the operator a friendly wave and salute. They then continued on their way up the street. It didn’t cost them even a full minute of their time, but it saved me a lot more than that. I’m going to remember this encounter the next time I get frustrated with snow on my street or alley. Apparently there are some pretty nice folks operating those machines, even if they can’t get to everybody’s neighborhood as quickly as we’d like.

If you’re wondering why we never seem to see those ultra-cold wind chills our parents and grandparents brag about, that’s why. According to this article, the wind chill number was mostly used as a tool of exaggeration anyway. Given the way the media reports everything else, this should come as no surprise. And in light of the fact that climatologists have been caught using false data and putting temperature recording stations next to heat sources in order to get results favorable to the global warming agenda, we shouldn’t be surprised that some methodologies will change from time to time.

One thing that has always amazed me is Bismarck’s apparently lackadaisical approach to clearing snow. I had an epiphany when I moved to Fargo for school back in the 1980s. I looked out of my window during a blizzard to find snow removal equipment working…and it hadn’t quit snowing yet! By comparison, it seems that Bismarck’s crews are told to wait until the snow stops falling. Well, using that logic, why not wait until May, or even forsake clearing the streets at all? Snow tends to melt in the Spring, after all…

Anecdotal evidence and asking around indicates that people think Bismarck is doing a worse job at winter street maintenance every year. I couldn’t agree more last week while skating down an unsanded ice rink called Washington Street over my lunch hour, literally driving around fresh traffic accidents while watching people skate sideways in my rearview mirror.

All grousing about my beloved hometown aside, let me direct your attention to the aforementioned abominable snowman. You’ll probably recognize him from the Rankin/Bass television Christmas specials that air on CBS this time of year. You can see him, along with the Grinch and other characters, in a highly decorated yard on the east end of Kennedy Avenue in northeast Bismarck, just a stone’s throw from the famous Northview Lane. If you head up 19th just a couple of blocks, you’ll find Longley Avenue temporarily renamed “Snowman Lane.” If you’re near the All Seasons Arena or YMCA area, head over to Sioux Avenue and drive down Toyland, one of Bismarck’s oldest neighborhood Christmas displays.

While it seems decorated homes get more sparse every year, these attractions (not to mention Christmas in the Park) are still in place, waiting for passers-by to share in a little Christmas cheer. Just make sure that the Public Works Department has managed to clear the roads, so you don’t get stuck in Winter Wonderland!

This little tree reminds me of the tree in Charlie Brown Christmas; perhaps that’s why I like it so much. Standing just over a foot tall, it’s a tough little conifer. My friend’s daughter planted it as part of an Arbor Day project from school last summer, and it has since survived encounters with the lawn mower and an uncle’s tractor tire. It’s a beautiful little tree, especially decked out in a fresh coat of thick frost.

Regardless of weather, I love getting up and chasing down unique photos. This frost didn’t hang around forever, and it was provided by just the right conditions of warm river water and cold, harsh wind. I may not take the best photos in the world, but I try to make each one indicative of a moment that was unique at the time my shutter clicked. There are plenty of those moments to be had in Bismarck and Mandan, and I’m going to continue to capture my share of them.