View allAll Photos Tagged ColdWeather
We are overrun with Finches. The American Goldfinches and the House Finches are visiting our feeders in great numbers, and I couldn't be happier.
When the weather got super cold a few weeks ago I had to put out an extra feeder for them because there was a near pandemonium with all of them trying to get at this one feeder. Although that extra feeder helped it still didn't seem to curb their frenzy. There was even a brand new thistle sock for the Goldfinches but they seemed to prefer these hotmeats, which are pepper treated sunflower meats.
**Please note - there is a second photo in the Comments section.
Mid-winter flower kiosks offer a burst of vibrant color that acts as a natural "pick-me-up" against gray skies and snowy landscapes. Common kiosk finds like Amaryllis, Cyclamen, and Pansies symbolize resilience and hope, reminding us that life continues to bloom even in the harshest seasons.
I am grateful for your continued support and appreciate every view, fave, and comment!
Canon EOS R5 © 2024 Klaus Ficker. Photos are copyrighted. All rights reserved. Pictures can not be used without explicit permission by the creator.
wish all a good start in the week !!
listen : Bird on the Wire Leonard Cohen
Like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
Like a worm on a hook,
like a knight from some old fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee.
If I, if I have been unkind,
I hope that you can just let it go by.
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you.
photo rights reserved by Ben
On January 7, 2026, the Netherlands lies beneath a thick blanket of snow. Code Orange is in effect, and its impact is felt everywhere: flights are cancelled, trains and buses barely run, and daily routines come to an abrupt halt. Roads turn into white ribbons, calendars are wiped clean, and the country is forced to slow down. Yet there is something quietly remarkable about this weather. Silence. Slowed movement. A landscape that seems momentarily set back in time. Normally, the historic center of Amsterdam is just a few degrees warmer. Surrounded by buildings, water, and urban heat, snow rarely settles here. It usually melts away quickly — wet, grey, and gone. But not today. Along the Prinsengracht, snow falls steadily and soft, settling on the quay, the bicycles, the rooftops, and the facades. Boats rest motionless in the dark water, edged with white. Behind the windows, warm light glows, gently contrasting with the cold winter day outside. The row of canal houses forms an almost graphic backdrop — restrained, quiet, dusted with snow. With little traffic, the snow is given space to remain. The canal becomes a silent winter street, where sound is softened and movement slows. Street lamps and illuminated windows add warmth to the scene as the city itself pauses. There is disruption, without doubt — but also wonder. People walk more slowly, stop, and look. Amsterdam feels smaller, calmer, almost timeless. This day shows what snow can do: disrupt and connect at the same time. It brings everything to a standstill, yet opens space for attention and reflection. And on this winter’s day, the snow even lingers on the Prinsengracht — rare, fleeting, and all the more special because of it.
A quiet winter moment on the Prinsengracht in Amsterdam, where heavy snowfall softens the historic canal houses and brings the city to a rare standstill. Warm window lights reflect in the dark water, contrasting beautifully with the cold, snow-covered facades.
Op 7 januari 2026 ligt Nederland onder een dik pak sneeuw. Code Oranje is van kracht en dat is overal voelbaar: vluchten zijn geannuleerd, treinen en bussen rijden nauwelijks of helemaal niet, en het dagelijkse ritme valt abrupt stil. Wegen veranderen in witte linten, agenda’s worden leeg geveegd en het land schakelt ongewild een versnelling terug. Tegelijkertijd heeft dit weer ook iets bijzonders. Stilte. Vertraging. Een landschap dat even lijkt te zijn teruggezet in de tijd. Normaal gesproken is het centrum van Amsterdam altijd nét een paar graden warmer. Door bebouwing, water en stedelijke warmte blijft sneeuw hier zelden liggen. Meestal wordt het snel nat, grijs en verdwenen. Maar vandaag niet. Op de Prinsengracht sneeuwt het onafgebroken. De vlokken vallen dicht en zacht en blijven liggen op de kade, op de fietsen, op de daken en langs de gevels. De boten dobberen stil in het donkere water, omlijst door een witte rand. Achter de ramen brandt warm licht, dat contrasteert met de koele winterdag buiten. De rij grachtenpanden vormt een bijna grafische wand — ingetogen, rustig, bedekt met sneeuw. Doordat het verkeer minimaal is, krijgt de sneeuw hier de ruimte om te blijven. De gracht verandert in een stille winterstraat, waar geluid wordt gedempt en beweging vertraagt. Straatlampen en vensters geven warmte aan het beeld, terwijl de stad zelf even pas op de plaats maakt. Er is overlast, zonder twijfel — maar ook verwondering. Mensen lopen langzamer, blijven staan, kijken. Amsterdam voelt even kleiner, stiller, bijna tijdloos. Deze dag laat zien wat sneeuw kan doen: ontregelen én verbinden. Het legt alles stil, maar opent tegelijk ruimte voor aandacht. En op deze winterse dag blijft de sneeuw zelfs op de Prinsengracht liggen — zeldzaam, kwetsbaar en precies daarom zo bijzonder.
Baldhill Dam area, Lake Ashtabula/Sheyenne River. On the North Country Nationel Scenic Trail (NCT)
Near the Mel Rieman Rec Area - Barnes County, North Dakota
Dec 2022
I just love winter scenes and snowy trees! This was another below zero day and everywhere I looked there was beauty!
‘Beware the Blackthorn Winter’ is a country saying about a spell of cold weather in early April which often coincides with the blossoming of the blackthorn (Prunus Spinosa). The pure white of the blackthorn blossom matches the snow or hoar frost covering the fields nearby and almost invariably bitter north easterly winds. The longer days and sun gaining strength at this time of year often give a spell of warmer weather - but then the Blackthorn Winter comes along and reminds us it’s not quite summer yet. Statistically, we are more likely to have snow at Easter than at Christmas.
A Blackthorn Winter can be described as the opposite of an Indian summer.
Blackthorn white blossoms appear before the leaves, creating a contrast against the dark smooth thorny branches. The blackthorn flowers eventually become purple sloes, ripening in autumn and harvested traditionally in October or November, after the first frosts, and used to make a Sloe gin liqueur.
It is suddenly COLD here in my part of the South! Nathan is all snuggly in his plaid flannel pajamas for the night!
"It is just TOO cold, Mama," he said.
"I know, Nathan! It's why we dug out the warm pjs for tonight!! If you need, we will get you another quilt for the bed! Now Sleep Tight! And don't let the bedbugs bite!"
Happy Teddy Bear Tuesday!
A Marsh Tit perches on a branch of rose hips in Cremenes, Spain. Light rain falls as the last remnants of snow melt in the background. The bird's slightly damp feathers reflect the wet conditions, while the soft, neutral tones of the blurred backdrop highlight its presence in this winter landscape.
photo rights reserved by Ben
On January 7, 2026, the Netherlands is covered by a thick blanket of snow. Code Orange is in effect, and its impact is felt everywhere: flights are cancelled, trains and buses are barely running, and the daily rhythm slows abruptly. In the center of Amsterdam, this is rare. Because of urban heat and surrounding water, snow usually doesn’t last here. It quickly turns wet, grey, and disappears. But not today. On the corner of the Herengracht and Brouwersgracht, by the Melkmeisjesbrug, snow falls continuously. The flakes drift down softly and densely, settling on the bridge deck, the quay, and the steps. With no car traffic here, the snow is given the chance to remain. The path along the canal turns into a silent, white passage. The historic façades form a dark backdrop against which the falling snow remains clearly visible. Street lanterns add a warm glow to the scene, while the city audibly comes to rest. Sounds are muffled; only footsteps and laughter break the silence. Children run through the fresh snow, pull sleds across the small bridge, fall, and get back up again. Nearby, residents move carefully along paths that are usually busy but now almost empty. Here, Amsterdam feels smaller, calmer — almost village-like. This place shows what snow can do: it disrupts, but it also connects. It brings the city to a halt while opening space for wonder. And on this winter day, the snow even stays here — right in the heart of Mokum, at the Melkmeisjesbrug. Something you rarely see, and precisely for that reason, so special.
A winter scene at the corner of the Herengracht and Brouwersgracht in Amsterdam, by the Melkmeisjesbrug. Fresh snow blankets the bridge and canal path as children play and the city slows, turning this usually busy spot into a quiet, almost village-like moment.
Op 7 januari 2026 ligt Nederland onder een dik pak sneeuw. Code Oranje is van kracht en dat is overal voelbaar: vluchten zijn geschrapt, treinen en bussen rijden nauwelijks, en het dagelijkse ritme vertraagt abrupt. In het centrum van Amsterdam is dat zeldzaam. Door stedelijke warmte en water blijft sneeuw hier meestal niet liggen. Vaak wordt het snel nat, grijs en verdwenen. Maar vandaag niet. Op de hoek van de Herengracht en Brouwersgracht, bij het Melkmeisjesbruggetje, sneeuwt het onafgebroken. De vlokken vallen zacht en dicht en blijven liggen op het brugdek, de kade en de trappen. Omdat hier geen autoverkeer is, krijgt de sneeuw de ruimte om te blijven. Het pad langs de gracht verandert in een stille, witte doorgang . De historische gevels vormen een donker decor waartegen de sneeuw zichtbaar blijft dwarrelen. Straatlantaarns brengen een warme gloed in het beeld, terwijl de stad hoorbaar tot rust komt. Geluiden worden gedempt; alleen voetstappen en gelach breken de stilte. Kinderen rennen door de verse sneeuw, trekken sleeën over het bruggetje, vallen en staan weer op. Even verderop bewegen bewoners zich voorzichtig voort over paden die normaal druk zijn, nu bijna leeg. Amsterdam voelt hier kleiner, rustiger — bijna dorps. Deze plek laat zien wat sneeuw kan doen: het ontregelt, maar verbindt ook. Het legt de stad stil en opent tegelijk ruimte voor verwondering. En op deze winterdag blijft de sneeuw zelfs hier liggen — midden in Mokum, bij het Melkmeisjesbrugje. Iets wat je zelden ziet, en juist daarom zo bijzonder is.
Goudriaan is a village in the Dutch province of South Holland. It is a part of the municipality of Molenlanden, and lies about 25 km east of Rotterdam. The village centre (dark green) and the statistical district (light green) of Goudriaan in the former municipality of Graafstroom.
A few weeks ago, I went on a field trip to explore some abandoned places. I’d been to this spot once before, back in April 2021. The field was still soggy from early December’s snow, leaving my shoes caked in mud. I had to clean them off before hopping into my truck and heading to the next property.
Well like every one else, my bird feeder has been on over time...
but that is quite alright ...
I get to see my, outside visitors ....
We got a " skiffin" of snow and ice this morning ...
It is COLD ....
My heat pump went out, ( of course I am complaining ) LOL
the men just told me to stay out of the way .. imagine that ?
They are getting it in .. but - I feel about, like this beautiful bird looks ... bless it.... I wished I could help it ...
Have a good evening every one ....
Skiffin ..... is just a dusting ....
Hessian Hill,Cornish, Maine.
Panorama;
A progression of (4) panoramas of today's snow shower sunset.
We had a rather windy and cold day with snow showers off and on throughout the day, that is not virga falling from the clouds but ice pellets and or snow.
I’ve visited this location twice, the first time being in April 2021. The condition of the property hasn’t changed much, though I did notice the roof has gotten a bit worse.
This morning, I decided to go back to this schoolhouse; only 33 minutes drive from my home; that I stopped by some days ago, so I can capture the schoolhouse with some snow on the ground before it all gone later today. I also rarely photo something during the golden hour - meaning the last hour before sunset and the first hour after sunrise - so why not grab this opportunity for me to see how good it turns out.
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There is no psychedelic lightshow going on in the house, it is the reflection of the setting sun !
Thanks to Maria_Globetrotter for help and advice!
That day, I took a field trip to some abandoned places. It was my second time stopping by this old schoolhouse. The last time I visited was four years ago, and nothing has changed since. It’s located in Richardson County, Nebraska.
Hi my friends! I was missing taking photos these days.
The cold weather doesn't help so much. I don't have a good car to travel safely in the snow routes and the cold weather is not good for the health of my daughter, so here I am at home.
So I think landscape photography it should wait a little and I should try other things, don't you think?
I hope everyone is having a good holidays season.
Here in Portland Oregon we are having some days with snow and that is not so regular. Crazy weather.
Stay cozy my friends Winter is here at this part of the world.
photo rights reserved by Ben
On 7 January 2026, the Netherlands lies beneath a thick blanket of snow. Code Orange is in effect, and its impact is felt everywhere: flights are cancelled, trains and buses barely run, and the rhythm of daily life slows abruptly. Roads turn into quiet, pale surfaces, and the country is forced to shift down a gear. In the center of Amsterdam, this is highly unusual. Normally, the city stays just warm enough for snow to disappear quickly—turning wet, grey, and gone within hours. Buildings, water, and urban heat rarely allow winter to linger. But not today. Along the Herengracht, near the Brouwersgracht, snow falls without pause. Soft flakes settle on the quay, on the railings along the water, and on two abandoned bicycles leaning against the fence. Across the canal, a houseboat lies quietly in the water, while behind it a continuous row of historic canal houses forms a calm, almost rhythmic backdrop—dark brick, light window frames, rooftops lightly dusted with snow. The street feels strikingly empty. No traffic, hardly any movement. Sound is muffled, lines become simpler, and the pace slows naturally. Behind a few windows, warm light glows, small and restrained—silent signs of life in an otherwise hushed city. The open space near the Blauwburgwal enhances the sense of calm and breathing room, as if Amsterdam pauses here for a moment. There is disruption, without doubt—but also a sense of wonder. On this winter day, the city feels smaller, quieter, and almost timeless. And even here, in the heart of Amsterdam, the snow remains: rare, fragile, and therefore all the more special.
A quiet winter moment on the Herengracht in central Amsterdam, near the Brouwersgracht, during heavy snowfall on 7 January 2026. Snow-covered bicycles line the canal as historic houses and a silent houseboat fade into the soft white calm.
Op 7 januari 2026 ligt Nederland onder een dik pak sneeuw. Code Oranje is van kracht en dat is overal merkbaar: vluchten zijn geannuleerd, treinen en bussen rijden nauwelijks en het dagelijkse ritme vertraagt abrupt. Wegen veranderen in stille, bleke vlakken en het land schakelt noodgedwongen een versnelling terug. In het centrum van Amsterdam is dit uitzonderlijk. Normaal gesproken blijft het hier net warm genoeg om sneeuw snel te laten verdwijnen — nat, grijs en weg. Bebouwing, water en stedelijke warmte laten winter zelden blijven. Maar vandaag niet. Langs de Herengracht, ter hoogte van de Brouwersgracht, valt de sneeuw onafgebroken. Zachte vlokken blijven liggen op de kade, op de leuningen langs het water en op twee verlaten fietsen die tegen het hek zijn gezet. Aan de overzijde ligt een woonboot stil in de gracht, terwijl daarachter een aaneengesloten rij historische grachtenpanden een rustig, bijna ritmisch decor vormt — donkere baksteen, lichte kozijnen, daken dun bestoven met sneeuw. De straat is opvallend leeg. Geen verkeer, nauwelijks beweging. Geluid wordt gedempt, lijnen worden eenvoudiger en het tempo zakt vanzelf. Achter enkele ramen brandt warm licht, klein en ingetogen, als stille tekens van leven in een verder verstilde stad. De open ruimte bij de Blauwburgwal versterkt het gevoel van rust en adem, alsof Amsterdam hier even pauze neemt. Er is overlast, zonder twijfel — maar ook verwondering. Op deze winterdag voelt de stad kleiner, stiller en bijna tijdloos. En zelfs hier, in het hart van Amsterdam, blijft de sneeuw liggen: zeldzaam, kwetsbaar en juist daarom zo bijzonder.