Blue sky and dark blue shadows on snow. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh
You don’t need me to tell you that the winter weather has been brutal in the first few weeks of 2024. And yet, it has its serenity, too.
I always loved how the long shadows of winter played across snowy landscapes. Even in suburban settings, the sky, trees, and shadows mark stark but lovely contrasts against the snow.
Such beauty helps us through blizzards, snow drifts, wind chills, and freezing temperatures. Altogether, they help chase away the winter blues.
Swartzentruber Amish sled riding at recess in Wayne Co., Ohio.
There is “snow” better way to enjoy the January cold than sledriding. These Swartzentruber Amish students certainly enjoyed their afternoon recess gliding down a slippery hillside near their one-room schoolhouse.
After attending a meeting in Kidron, Ohio, 11 years ago, I decided to take some back roads home. It had snowed a few inches overnight, but the clouds had moved out by afternoon. The clear sky’s bright sun warmed the cold January day.
This scene came into view as I rounded a bend on a narrow township road. I knew I had to get a photo of these Amish schoolchildren sledding at recess. I also knew that I had to be discreet since I always tried to honor the Amish position of no photography.
I secured one photo undetected before moving on. The joyous laughter of the happy scholars made the satisfaction of this photo all the more enjoyable.
Fishing under the first quarter moon during the Georgetown Glow holiday lighting.
My wife and I recently enjoyed a few days in Washington, D.C., with our family. It was the first holiday gathering with everyone present since we moved from Ohio to Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.
When visiting our nation’s capital, expect to walk. Yes, the Metro network of trains and buses gets you to the general area of where you want to be. But walking gets you exactly where you need to go. And together, our family walked and walked.
That enabled me to do some fun street photography, although I couldn’t linger long if I wanted to keep up with the others. So, I took photos as efficiently as possible.
I was impressed by the collage of architectural styles, often standing on the same city block. The following photos are a few of my favorites, from monuments to residences to embassies to commercial buildings.
On DuPont Circle.Beautiful in brick.The Washington Monument at dusk.The U.S. Capitol building at the golden hour.The White House from Lafayette Square.The U.S. Supreme Court.The U.S. Botanic Garden at the U.S. Botanic Garden.Lafayette Square.A bookstore in DuPont Circle.On DuPont Circle.Stunning brick.The lighting of Georgetown Glow.I failed to visit this museum.Brunch.Foggy Bottom Metro stop.The U.S. Capitol building, east entrance.The Library of Congress.The U.S. Capitol.The U.S. Capitol at the U.S. Botanic Gardens.The Lincoln Memorial at the U.S. Botanic Gardens.The Mexican Embassy.On New Hampshire Ave.The Egyptian Embassy.A curious grandson.The Call Your Mother Deli.
As you can see, Washington, D.C., is a photographer’s paradise for street photography.
Ice skaters skate around the holiday light display of Enchant inside the Washington Nationals baseball stadium.
For the first time in seven years, our entire family gathered last week for the holidays in Washington, D.C. Our son, his wife, and toddler flew in from Rochester, New York, while our daughter’s family and my wife and I drove from Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley to our nation’s capital.
The chilly air didn’t stop us from enjoying the sights and participating in outdoor activities like the one pictured. We ate and laughed much and immensely enjoyed one another’s company. We had a glorious time.
As we celebrated, we didn’t forget the distress of too many global humans amid the blessedness of Christmastime. The African American pastor and theologian Howard Thurman expertly expressed the paradox of the season in the following poem:
A view of the snow-covered West Virginia mountains.
My wife and I spent a wonderful long weekend visiting family and friends in Ohio. With a powerful cold front sweeping across the country, I suspected our return trip might be dicey since we had to travel through several mountain ranges to return to our home in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.
To avoid slippery roads, we waited until the warnings and advisories for heavy snow expired before setting out. That still gave us time to arrive home before dark as long as the roads were clear. Fortunately, they were.
The snow appeared as soon as we began to climb in elevation east of Morgantown, West Virginia. The tall, dark, barren trees sprouted from a light snow covering. The beauty would only increase as we progressed southeast.
A snowy scene near Oakland, Maryland.
The highways in Maryland traverse mountains that appear all scrunched together. The effect is that you are riding across the mountaintops without ever descending into deep valleys. There, the storm had frosted entire woodlots with powdered sugar. Inches of snow stuck to the tree branches and trunks and covered the forest floor and adjoining farm fields. It was gorgeous.
I stopped several times for photos. However, we saw numerous scenes without a safe place to pull over. Those images will have to remain pleasant memories.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
Since I couldn’t stop along the narrow, winding state route, I chose several county roads for photos. I didn’t have to go far. It was like we had driven into a black-and-white movie from the 1950s. Forboding dark clouds enhance that effect.
We continued our trek south and east into West Virginia. The snowy, panoramic landscape became wide open once we hit Corridor H, U.S. 48. We took advantage of highway overlooks for thrilling shots.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
In Maryland and West Virginia, giant windmills swooped their massive blades round and round. Despite their distance from us, the noise shocked me when I exited the vehicle for photos.
The valleys became more expansive, and the mountains steeper as we continued east. As the National Weather Service predicted, areas above 2.000 feet in elevation received the heaviest snow. The lowland had little to no snow at all.
A sunlit mountainside near Baker, West Virginia.
The farther east we traveled, the more frequent the breaks in clouds, which allowed the late afternoon sun to break through. The contrast between the sunlit and shadowed snow created lovely shade and color contrasts.
As we entered our beloved Shenandoah Valley, snow had all but disappeared. Only the higher ridges remained white. The morning photos of friends on social media showed the comeliness of the snowfall in the valley, with the snow-covered old-age mountains as a beautiful backdrop.
Still, we were happy to have seen the snowy sights and thankful for cleared highways, and to be home.
Cattle grazed beneath the snow-covered Allegheny Mountains near Lost City, West Virginia.
I love photography. It keeps me alert for the extraordinary while doing the ordinary. In this case, I was with my wife, her cousin, and her husband, all septuagenarians.
We get together every so often about halfway between our home in Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley and their abode in central North Carolina. Lynchburg is a handy place to meet up, a two-hour drive for each of us.
We like many of the same activities, like playing cards, dominoes, antiques, and birding. We also enjoy casual strolls along city streets and well-marked biking and hiking paths. Lynchburg offers plenty of both.
Since we are not out to set any speed records on our walks, I can wander ahead and find the unusual among the usual rural or urban landscapes. Occasionally, I charge ahead too fast, and the others call me back to see what they have found. Together, we discover much to appreciate, ponder, and enjoy.
Take our most recent excursion, for example. Lynchburg is a city of hills and valleys, with a rich history, old buildings, waterways, sidewalks, cobblestone alleys, and lazy trails often following the winding creeks and the James River. One trail even had an old railroad tunnel, now lighted for bikers and hikers. The city is a paradise for photographers.
We came upon curious subjects to photograph every path we took. Along a creekside trail, we found this textured object. Any guesses? A tire? An alligator’s back? No to both. There’s a hint in the photo.
This is the closeup of an old fallen tree. The trunk was rotting away while its life-protective bark remained.
Not all photographic opportunities were so secretive. Still, using your imagination is critical. This old snag has stood the test of time, and the elements of four seasons have weathered into a once-living art object. Does anyone else conjure an owl flapping its right wing?
Speaking of living, this diminutive plant waved its once-green leaves red for the holiday season that is upon us. It is a volunteer burning bush, likely deposited by a seed-eating bird. There was no missing the bright color among all the trail-side leaf litter.
A short distance away, a competitor vied for attention. This sugar maple sapling shown like the sun on this dismal day. It made us all chuckle.
Not everything was so obvious, however. This photo has a complex combination of both natural and human-made actions.
Any idea what this abstract consists of? Look close. What’s on the left side? You are halfway home if you said a rock outcropping leached with calcium-laden groundwater. The right section is an old drainpipe. Some wannabe artists eliminated the plain rusty look by adding some pretty red and blue with a meaning. Those colors covered up some previous graffiti in faded white.
That pipe was a hint for us. The city lay just around the corner. We soon found this intriguing old set of double doors in a two-story brick building, likely once a warehouse during the railroad’s heyday. It faced the James River. The nearby trail was once a rail line.
A few steps away was a nearly block-long mosaic timeline of the history of Lynchburg. The blight of slavery was front and center. It’s an incredible piece of artwork often blocked by parked cars. This photo shows the intricate detail needed to tell the town’s story. I couldn’t imagine the time and effort it took to create this masterpiece.
We headed to the Amtrak train station away from Old Town. The building was magnificently reconstructed and expanded to hold city offices that had nothing to do with trains. We had a look around and came across some interesting finds.
An old luggage hand cart parked against the sturdy brick building caught my eye. No longer used, it can’t help but take train passengers and visitors back in time.
Across the street, an abandoned building seemed frozen in time. Dozens of solar bobbleheads danced behind a window in the late autumn sun. It was a curious collection that seemed abandoned, left to survive without human help.
This wasn’t our first rendezvous in Lynchburg with our friends. Given all there is to do, see, and photograph, it won’t be our last.
Brilliant Sugar Maples in the Park View neighborhood of Harrisonburg, Virginia.
Following my day in Shenandoah National Park, my wife and I headed south to Augusta County. We had more than colorful leaves on our agenda.
The “Queen of Steam,” Norfolk & Western Railroad’s Old 611 steam engine was running excursions twice a day from Goshen, Virginia, to Staunton, Virginia. Friends had pointed out a perfect place to observe the 611 heading east to Staunton.
So, Neva and I were up early to get a good spot at the bridge over the Buckingham Branch tracks at Swoope, Virginia. I wasn’t familiar with the area, so I wanted to scout different locations, too.
It was another beautiful day in the Shenandoah Valley. Cool temperatures in the morning, but a promised warming into the 60s by afternoon. The drive down to Swoope was nothing less than gorgeous.
Our spot on the bridge where we would have seen the 611 engine pulling the excursion train.
We arrived in Swoope at 8:30, and the train wasn’t scheduled to leave Goshen until 9:30. We didn’t know how long it would take the special train to arrive at our location. Besides a few walkers and joggers, we were the only people around.
Confident that our spots on the bridge wouldn’t be taken, we drove around the lovely valley dotted with rolling hills, pristine cattle farms, and gorgeous trees. The mixed hardwoods on Little North Mountain and the North Mountain beyond it were at peak color.
I took several shots of trees and farms and returned to the bridge. Soon, other rail fans arrived, and the chatter began. We listened for the train whistle to echo through the valleys. All was still.
Finally, a guy arrived who had information about the 611. It was listed as “static” at Goshen, meaning the engine wasn’t moving. A mechanical problem prevented 611 from running that day. The excursion would be pulled by diesel engines.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
My wife and I decided to return home. The morning had already brought much beauty into our lives. We had enjoyed the colorful trees, the well-maintained farms, and the congeniality of strangers.
The next few days, I continued my quest to photograph the beauty around Harrisonburg before the weather changed and brought the leaves down. I am happy to share them with you.
Our backyard when we arrived home from Augusta Co.
The Dry River in western Rockingham County, Virginia.
My quest to capture fall’s unique colors continued. The weather was incredible for taking photos. The blue skies, unseasonably warm temperatures, and the desire to get outside and enjoy creation spurred me on. Plus, my wife was more than happy for the time to spruce up the house with me out of the way.
I originally had planned to go to Shenandoah National Park at the eastern end of Rockingham County, Virginia’s second largest in square miles. Instead, Shenandoah Mountain on the western edge of the county called my name.
Sugar maples at Pleasant View Old Order Mennonite Church.
I first returned to the Old Order Mennonite Church to capture more photos of the radiant sugar maples in the morning light. They had a funeral the previous day, and out of respect, I didn’t want to interfere, so I only took a few photos.
I wound my way towards the Allegheny Mountains, first stopping at Riven Rock Park, maintained by Harrisonburg Parks and Recreation, even though it is 13 miles west of the Friendly City. Despite the buzzing insects, it was the right decision.
Because the area has been in a moderate to severe drought for weeks, the Dry River was indeed nearly dry. The rising sun sparkled what water was there and drew a light fog from the forest. A few lucky leaves bathed in the sun’s rays in the narrow gap between the steep foothills.
I snapped a few photos and continued through the tunnel of trees of the George Washington National Forest. In a couple of miles, U.S. Route 33 instantly transforms from an arrow-straight highway to a zigzagging assembly of switchbacks for four miles to the peak of Shenandoah Mountain.
I noted several photo opportunities on the way to the mountaintop, as the state line between Virginia and West Virginia. I watched for places to pull off the winding, narrow roadway, too.
Within a quarter mile of my turn-around destination, traffic stopped. West Virginia Department of Transportation was doing some roadwork. Experience told me that it would be a while sitting in the line of vehicles since WVDOT uses a “Follow Me” pilot vehicle in construction zones. That is especially true in the mountains. It’s all for safety’s sake.
Once the line began moving, I pulled into the parking lot for Hightop Mountain Trail, which runs south along the state line to an old fire tower. Once all the cars behind me were gone, I headed back down the mountain. The look on the flagger’s face said, “Where in the heck do you come from?” I just smiled and waved until I reached my first safe pull-out.
I stopped several times, all the while being mindful of traffic from both directions. I often take photos with vehicles in the roadway for perspective and depth.
The next day, I chose to return to the Park View neighborhood of Harrisonburg and continue photographing the many beautiful trees there. I knew it would only be a matter of time before the trees would all be bare.
The sugar maples and the ginkgo trees complement one another.
The colors of Massanutten Mountain, Massanutten, Virginia. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh.
With our travels to Greece and Rome during the first two weeks of October, I thought we might miss autumn’s peak colors. I need not have worried.
My wife and I could readily see on our drive home from Dulles International Airport to our home near Harrisonburg, Virginia, that most trees still held their leaves, which were only now turning their true colors. I was glad we hadn’t missed the peak.
As we exited the Interstate highway at New Market, Virginia, a red maple caught my eye. I stopped to photograph the striking tree that stood center stage on a private school campus. It wouldn’t be my last photograph of the annual changing of the leaves.
A red maple in New Market, Virginia.
I feared that with the ongoing drought, the leaves would be dull and simply fall off out of sheer fatigue. Strangely enough, this has been the most colorful fall yet of the seven autumns we have resided in Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley. In fact, several valley natives told me that this has been the most colorful fall in years.
I delved into why that was. I discovered that the weather indeed influences the intensity of leaf colors. The combination of sunny, warm days and cool (but not freezing) dark nights help create the brilliant colors we have experienced here in the valley. From photos posted by friends on social media, I know the fall colors have been equally vivid in other locales.
Ironically, I found many of the brightest and most colorful trees in and around the neighborhoods of Harrisonburg. The colors of the trees and shrubs of both the Allegheny and the Blue Ridge Mountains appeared more uniform and consistent in color. Perhaps the lower valley elevations had more extreme temperature differences between the days and nights.
Here, then, are a few of my favorite tree photos I’ve taken between October 17 and October 24. Photos from Shenandoah National Park and Augusta County will follow in a subsequent post.
Our final two days in Rome were rich in architecture, sculpture, art, museums, and churches. At times, it seemed to blend all together. But now, as I reflect on these final days, I can finally appreciate all we experienced in Rome and the rest of the trip.
Our excellent leaders, Linford and Janet, acquired tickets from a local guide for the Museums of the Vatican. Doing so permitted us to skip the long ticket line, which ran around the block.
Our time in the interconnected museums transported us through centuries of fantastic artwork, sculptures, maps, murals, and artifacts. The Sphere Within Sphere by Arnoldo Pomodoro was most impressive in the courtyard. As for the rest of the museums, I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.
Exiting the museum was just as exciting. We traversed the famous spiral staircase of the museum. When we stepped outside, the line still stretched around the corner. I felt extremely fortunate to be in our group.
The spiral staircase in the Vatican Museums.
In the afternoon, I got a reprieve for missing the Roman Forum. Three younger members of our tour group agreed to accompany me to the Forum. While Molly and I went to the Forum, cousins Alicia and Brittany snagged tickets to the Colosseum. The plan was to meet at the Arch of Constantine between the Forum and the Colosseum.
Before exploring the Forum, Molly and I decided to tour the jail cells where the Apostles Peter and Paul were imprisoned. I was moved by the harshness of their dungeon-like confines.
The cells were located in the Forum, where Molly and I ventured next. I marveled at the stone-paved roads preserved after all these centuries. We wandered by old temples and meeting places. A steep section of a cobblestone way was closed to traffic. I guess too many people had fallen on the slippery, well-worn stones.
As we entered the main section of the Forum, I stopped in my tracks. My mind flashed back 60 years to a black-and-white photo in my high school Latin book. I had to be standing close to where the old photo was taken. I had chills, and the hair on my arms stood up, realizing I was living that photograph decades later.
The spot where I flashed back to my high school Latin class.
Molly and I continued to meander around the Forum, taking in the sites. For me, I was almost in disbelief that I was there. It was difficult to absorb it all in so few minutes as the shadows of the relics and ruins grew longer. The afternoon sun sank lower in the western sky, a reminder that we needed to keep moving to our rendezvous with Alicia and Brittany.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
They had texted Molly that they had completed their tour of the Colosseum and were waiting for us at the arch. Molly and I finished our stroll down Via Sacra, the central avenue of the Forum. The Colosseum glowed in the evening’s Golden Hour. It was incredible timing.
The shot of a lifetime, with much thanks to Brittany, Molly, and Alicia.
I greatly appreciated these three young women’s willingness to drag this old guy along on their afternoon adventure. It was one of the benefits of having a diverse age range in our tour group of like-minded folks.
The next day, we visited the Church of St. Peter in Vincoli, Rome. The enormous church has many marble columns and houses a famous sculpture. In 1505, Pope Julius II commissioned Michaelangelo to create the Biblical Moses for his tomb. It took two years for Michaelangelo to complete the marble statue, based on a description of Moses in Chapter 34 of Exodus in the Vulgate, a Latin version of the Bible used during the Renaissance.
Moses by Michaelangelo (1513-1515). Photo by Jason Steele on Unsplash.
The church was impressive all on its own, with its finely gilded ceilings and scores of massive marble columns. It is built over the tomb of St. Peter. After seeing the church, we returned to our hotel to pack for our flight home early the following day. For once, the Metro wasn’t crowded.
In the evening, our entire group gathered for one final meal together at a restaurant where Janet and Linford knew the owners. We celebrated our travel and time together and the great joy that we all made it through.
Our fantastic travel group.
Yes, some of us got sick with bronchitis and pneumonia; one even had Covid-19 when she arrived home. But we all got along, helped each other, ate great food, and explored new places together. It was a great group with fantastic leaders.
Most of us headed home the next day. Others extended their time in Europe, visiting other locales in different cities and countries. Some even got to spend time with children and grandchildren who live in Europe.
Below are photos group members took at locations I didn’t visit. I appreciated their willingness to share their photos with me so I can share them with you.
The Appian Way.
The Parthenon.
The Spanish Steps.
Thanks for traveling with me to Athens, some lovely Greek islands, and Rome.
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