This morning I walked for almost three hours, starting from Oittaa, going to Brobacka, and returning via another route. In six days I have got 13 hours of exercise.
The photographs were taken on December 5th at Meiko.
(Posting title is from the poem A Trenta-Sei of the Pleasure We Take in the Early Death of Keats by John Ciardi.)
Here is some more snowy landscape, lakes Immerlampi, Korsolampi and Mustjärvi in Meiko, photographs taken on November 23rd.
I commuted by bicycle today, and it was good that I had studded winter tires in the bicycle. During afternoon the road was rather slippery in many places because the temperature dropped below 0 °C during the day, and the moisture froze on the surfaces.
(Posting title is from the poem Iowa City: Early April by Robert Hass.)
On March 24th I had a long walk in Meiko, walking past lakes Korsolampi and Immerlampi towards north. Early in the morning there was some fog. It was very quiet; there was only one other car at the parking place when I started walking.
I'm rather hungry most of the time these days, because I'm now commuting by bicycle on most workdays, and this consumes enough energy to keep me hungry. Last week I got about 10 hours of exercise, and I think this week will be similar.
The conditions for bicycle commute are good. The temperature drops below 0 °C on most nights, but during the day it rises above +5 °C. It has been rather dry, and there has been plenty of sunshine.
(Posting title is from the poem Sometime During Eternity... by Lawrence Ferlinghetti.)
Here are four more photographs from Saturday, taken at lake Korsolampi in Meiko, on the return leg of our walk in the forests. On Sunday we had a walk in Nuuksio, but those photographs are still waiting to be processed. And today is a great day for walking as well, but I'm not yet sure where to go this time.
(Posting title is from the poem The Sundays of Satin-Legs Smith by Gwendolyn Brooks.)
Here are two photograph I took on Sunday at Meiko. I haven't processed the newer photographs, and it may that I don't have time for that even today, even though there are already 599 photograph waiting. Today I went skiing, and it felt good to be out skiing, even though the wind was biting, and the wind also blew snow across the ski tracks so that in some places the tracks were completely invisible.
(Posting title is from the poem The Evening Wind by William Cullen Bryant.)
I went yesterday with the two oldest children to Meiko for a walk. I thought that there would be nice paths in the forests there, like in Luukki, and we could follow a path which goes in circle touching four different lakes in Meiko. This is what we did a month ago, and it was very nice then. But now it turned out to not be a good idea.
There was a path, but it only went around lake Korsolampi. From the northeast end of the lake there were snowshoe and ski marks towards lake Immerlampi, but not a good path for normal shoes. We did try, anyway, following showshoe paths, but the snow wasn't carrying, and in places there was about 70 cm of snow to step into. Near lake Immerlampi the old walking path was somewhat visible, but there was 10-20 cm snow on top of the path, and in many places it was hard to see where the path was going.
We managed to go all the way to the northeast end of lake Immerlampi, and we had picnic there. We could have tried to go forward lake Kakarlampi, but the snow was quite deep and even though there were some snowshoe tracks those were not too good to follow on foot. So, we returned the same way, except that we went around lake Korsolampi from the west side, opposite the way we came.
The day was quite gray, and I wasn't at all inspired by the light, but I took some photographs anyway. Here you see a sample.
(Posting title is from the poem Pine by Chase Twichell.)
Yesterday I was thinking of going for a walk at the Luukki forests, and even had planned a nice route for the walk, but the daughters said that they have been too often there, and thus we went to Meiko instead.
It wasn't bad at Meiko, in fact quite the opposite, and one of the pleasant surprises was that there was a nice walking path going to four different lakes in Meiko: Kotolampi, Kakarlampi, Immerlampi and Korsolampi. Or in fact, we went the opposite direction, starting from Korsolampi.
There is a path marked with orange tape, and people had walked the path frequently enough so that the snow was packed tight, and in some places even icy, and it was rather easy to walk, maybe even easier than during summer. We had picnic by lake Kakarlampi, looking at the snowy scenery, rather silent expect occasional sounds from a dog somewhere farther away.
We didn't see anyone else after leaving the parking lot, even though the parking lot was packed with cars. I guess that may have been due to people going ice fishing on the big Meiko lake.
(Posting title is from the poem Toward what island-home am I moving by Joanna Klink.)
Today I walked around five lakes in Meiko: Kotolampi, Mustjärvi, Kakarlampi, Immerlampi and Korsolampi. (Well, technically I only walked around four of these lakes, as I passed lake Kotolampi from the wrong side so that it was not inside my circular route.)
The walk took me two hours, and I took 372 photographs. The children stayed home this time, as the sickness with fever hasn't passed yet.
I took the opporturnity to make a longer walk than usual, using an orienteering map I got from a friend. I also took my old compass with me just in case, and I did use it on the return leg of the route, between lakes Mustjärvi and Kakarlampi. However, there was a convenient path there (although not on the map) and I didn't really need the compass.
There is quite a lot to explore at Meiko, although some parts are becoming already quite familiar. I tend to remember places where I have walked and got lost...
I met four people and six dogs during the walk, and I was the only one without a dog. Maybe this was due to weather. Maybe I got lucky, as it rained when I drove to Meiko, and also when I returned by car, but during my walk there wasn't much rain. Or I didn't notice it...
There was an interesting (and somewhat provocative) posting about artists and photographers at TOP yesterday. This definition was rather interesting: "I think an art photographer is a photographer with an opinion."
I don't think I would call myself a photographer if the term would be defined like this. I don't have an opinion. Or maybe it is more so that I do know that what I want to do with my photography is to get surprised, to see glimpses of the world I didn't realize before. But I don't have an opinion about my photographs.
Also, I'm not keen on showing only those photographs which are good. Most of my photographs suck. I delete 90-95 percent of my photographs right away, and of the remaining most still suck. But still I post them here. And the reason? To learn, to get a bit of feedback, to feel committed to taking photographs almost every day, and to be part of the community of photographers who show their work to others without claiming it is supreme. By failing we learn.
PS. Onion had some fun with people like me who take and post an excessive amount of photographs.
(Posting title is from the poem Paracelsus by Diane Di Prima.)
I did quite a lot of walking today. First I went out with the youngest daughter, walking the nearby roads and paths, looking at the frost and the remaining autumn colors.
Then the oldest daughter wanted to go out as well, but somewhere farther away. She suggested Meiko, and I was easily persuaded, even though the car ride takes some time.
We walked around three lakes at Meiko, lakes Korsolampi, Immerlampi and Kakarlampi. Of these the smallest, Kakarlampi, was almost completely covered by ice. Well, mostly rather thin ice, but it is a start. There was a lot to be seen, and we enjoyed the sunshine as well, having picnic by lake Kakarlampi, on the sunny rocks facing south.
It was easier to walk than earlier, because the ground was partly in ice and swamps carried a person rather well. In fact, we saw several people picking cranberries, which is now easier than before thanks to the frozen ground.
(Posting title is from the poem Paean to Place by Lorine Niedecker.)
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