For years, I viewed Minnesota’s winters as something to endure—an endless stretch of short days and bitter cold that tested even the hardiest spirits. But somewhere between the frost-covered mornings and star-studded nights, I discovered something unexpected: winter wasn’t just a season to survive, but a world of wonder waiting to be explored.
My transformation began with my camera. Through the lens, I started noticing things I’d overlooked before. The way frost creates delicate lacework on crabapples, transforming ordinary berries into nature’s jewelry. The striking contrast of crimson sumac against fresh snow. The intricate patterns of ice crystals formed on pine needles, each branch carrying its unique miniature winter wonderland.
But it wasn’t just the small details that changed my perspective. On particularly cold nights, when most people retreat indoors, I found myself standing in snowy fields beneath the northern lights. Against a backdrop of cattails and stars, the aurora dances in sheets of green and purple, a reminder that winter’s darkness brings the kind of light show that summer could never match… well except for summer 2024.
Even the challenges became opportunities. Those brutally cold mornings? They’re now invitations to witness the countryside transformed by hoarfrost, when every tree branch wears a coating of crystalline white against impossibly blue skies. The early sunsets? They offer perfect conditions for photography when the low angle of winter light paints everything in soft, golden hues.
I’ve learned that winter in the North isn’t about waiting for spring—it’s about embracing a different kind of beauty. It’s in the quiet moments: watching a painted horse’s breath steam in the frigid air, their coat a warm splash of color against the monochrome landscape. It’s in the resilience of nature: the way berries persist beneath their coating of frost, providing sustenance for winter birds.
The secret, I’ve discovered, isn’t in fighting against winter’s nature, but in adapting to its rhythm. Each morning brings new possibilities: Will today be the day the trees are clothed in perfect frost? Will tonight’s sky dance with aurora? What hidden beauty might I discover if I just step outside?
So now, instead of counting down the days until spring, I find myself looking forward to winter’s quiet moments. Each snowfall is an invitation to explore, each frosty morning a chance to witness something extraordinary. In embracing winter’s challenges, I’ve found its gifts—the sharp clarity of cold air, the profound silence of a snow-covered landscape, the way extreme conditions create moments of unexpected beauty.
For those still struggling with winter’s grip, I offer this challenge: step outside with fresh eyes. Look closer at the frost patterns on your window, venture out on a clear night to stargaze, or simply stand still in a snowy forest. Winter in Minnesota isn’t just about endurance—it’s about discovering the extraordinary in what we once thought of as ordinary.
The season hasn’t changed, but my perspective has. And through my lens, I hope to share this transformed vision of winter, one frost-covered branch and starlit night at a time.
Cheers – Acacia
I am a multitalented artist located in northwestern Minnesota where I live with my dog Mulligan and probably too many art supplies.. jk.
One Response
Not only are your pictures captivating, but your narration makes them come alive. Your talent never stops amazing me. I can’t wait for the next newsletter. Have you thought of putting together a book, a year in the beauty of the north.