This has been a winter of much fog. I thought the Labrador Forest would be atmospheric in the snow and fog, so I set out with my camera. I almost turned back because the fog was so thick: I wasn’t sure I could find the right road. And, if I found the road, I wasn’t sure I could get close to the trail since it was badly mucked up in the fall and now would be covered with snow. However, the closer I got the less fog there was.
Still atmospheric. This was the only landmark around. Nothing in a bare field shows up in the mist.
It was foggy in the forest, but much clearer than expected. Also much snowier! The only trails were snowshoe hare runs.
And snowshoe human runs, once I had gone through. The snow is deep and mounded on top of the Labrador Tea, so you sink fairly deep. It’s walking on air – the air trapped in the bush under the snow cover.
With the fog comes frost. This is frost crystals grown on frost crystals, giving it an appearance that makes my skin crawl a little. It must be something like being repulsed by macaroni holes. What’s that called again?
Curly branches. Maybe so much moisture got sucked out of them, they can’t straighten out again. Like my fingers on a cold dry day!
A blue and frosty deep freeze. Who needs fog to add atmosphere?
There are spots of colour, but only in the birches that line the spruce forest.
The still, silent forest, where even the main trail is abandoned. It was vaguely reminiscent of those outdoor scenes in The Shining. I thought I should either see a pair of girls or a bull moose down this corridor. Neither showed up. I was all alone after all…
Here is a strange trail. This hare seems to have stopped to look at something, slowly sidestepping for a moment before running away.
My lonely trail out of the woods. There was nothing to see to the left at all, and only my own tracks. No sound but the squeak of my snowshoes, particularly the left one, no scents, and no feeling in my nose and thighs.