The Arctic temperatures have officially vacated the Northwest, but I felt it was my duty to share the last batch of images I gathered before the ice melted. I know this is getting a tad old what with all the pictures of frozen things, but what can I say, I'm originally from California. This is what happens when you grow up somewhere that the temperature never dips below 60 degrees. You morph into this person who is fascinated, and borderline obsessive when water freezes all over your world. But come on, even if you also live in a land where frozen water particles fall from the sky I bet you can see why I had to take this picture.
It's like all those childhood craft projects cutting out paper snowflakes come to life. They always told us tan Californian children that this is what a snowflake looked like, but only half had probably ever seen this sort of delicate natural artistry in real life.
After I'd discovered the tiny ice snowflakes I went about my day. While driving home I looked to my right as I always do and suddenly I played a little game with myself called, 'What about this picture isn't right?' And the answer was most definitely, 'Capital Lake'. Capital Lake, for all the non-Olympians is the lake sitting at the bottom of the Puget Sound where the Deschutes River meets the ocean, essentially. They culminate in the most picturesque location showcasing the Washington State Capital Building.
I am pretty sure that the sight of this entire lake freezing over was shocking for even the born and raised Olympians because the park was full of gape mouthed locals wielding cameras. We all wandered around in wonder to see this well loved landmark strikingly altered.
And just in case you think my awe is misplaced, here is how thick the ice was on the water. I mean, this lake wasn't covered in ice, it was covered in ICE. There's a difference.
The most amazing part wasn't the completely frozen lake, or even the fact that the sun was at its most perfect level between daylight and sunset, casting that warm glow on the world that basically screams TAKE PICTURES NOW, no. It was the deep violent cracks in the ice. Cracks that exposed just how thick the ice was, and how destructive this storm has been to our landscape. At one point the woman next to me gasped. When I asked her what was the matter she told me to listen. Sure enough those giant slabs of ice were cracking. It sounded as if the lake was moaning in pain. It was such a beautiful pain though.
I loved these swirls I found carved into the ice. They made me imagine bubbles trying desperately to escape to the surface before the freeze, and being trapped halfway to the top.
This is already a majestic sight, but there is something about the severity of ice that has the ability to increase the beauty of even the most familiar of sights tenfold.
