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Icicles from the ice-storm that we are still enduring over the last few days here in Eugene, Oregon USA.
Weather Eugene Oregon Winter
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This is shot from the archives....
Right now, all we have are severe cold temps, high winds, along with an ice storm, trying to loom in ..
Have a safe week ahead ....
Please be careful if you must be outside ....
Stunning frozen waterfall in Szentendre, Hungary, with intricate ice formations covering rocks in a winter landscape.
A rare snow flurry at Mill Cottage on Mill Farm.
This is the site of the old Grist Mill (previously known as Staple Mill). The old grindstone can still be seen, set into the cottage wall (zoom in).
At Staple Fitzpaine, near Taunton in Somerset.
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.
Ice covered red Holly Tree berries during the ice-storm here in Eugene, Oregon USA.
Weather Eugene Oregon Winter
We had -6°C this night.The (warm) winter sun doesn't have the energy to melt the ice on the water.
Sint-Maartensheide Beek Bree Belgium.
( Meyer Trioplan 50mm f2,9)
photo rights reserved by Ben
On 7 January 2026, the Netherlands is covered by a thick blanket of snow. Code Orange is in effect, and its impact is unmistakable: flights are cancelled, trains and buses barely operate, and everyday life slows to a near standstill. Roads turn into pale, quiet ribbons, schedules are erased, and the country is forced—briefly—to move at a gentler pace. In the centre of Amsterdam, this is rare. Normally, the city stays just warm enough for snow to disappear quickly—melting into grey slush within hours. Dense buildings, water, and urban heat usually prevent winter from settling in. But not today. Along the Herengracht, near the corner of the Blauwburgwal, snow falls steadily and without interruption. Flakes drift softly through the air and settle on the quay, the moored boats, and the façades of the canal houses. The long row of historic buildings forms a calm, almost rhythmic perspective—dark brick, pale window frames, roofs lightly dusted with snow. The street feels unusually empty. There is no traffic, hardly any movement. Footsteps fade slowly beneath a fresh layer of snow. A single cyclist walks his bike along the canal edge. Street lanterns glow warmly, reflecting off the snow and softening the cold winter light. Behind a few windows, lights are on—quiet, modest signs of life within an otherwise stilled city. The open junction at the Blauwburgwal enhances the sense of space and calm, as if Amsterdam pauses here to breathe. With traffic largely absent, the snow is given time to remain. Sound is muted, lines become simpler, and movement slows naturally. People walk more carefully, look around, linger for a moment. There is disruption, without doubt—but also a quiet sense of wonder. On this winter day, Amsterdam feels smaller, quieter, and almost timeless. And even here, in the heart of the city, the snow remains—rare, fragile, and precisely for that reason, so special.
Fresh snowfall on the Herengracht, near the Blauwburgwal, during the winter storm of 7 January 2026 . A rare moment of stillness in the centre of Amsterdam.
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, en het dagelijkse ritme komt vrijwel tot stilstand. Wegen veranderen in bleke, stille linten, agenda’s worden leeg geveegd en het land schakelt noodgedwongen een versnelling terug.
In het centrum van Amsterdam is dit uitzonderlijk. Normaal blijft de stad net warm genoeg om sneeuw snel te laten verdwijnen—binnen korte tijd verandert het in nat, grijs en weg. Bebouwing, water en stedelijke warmte laten winter hier zelden blijven. Maar vandaag niet. Langs de Herengracht, ter hoogte van de hoek met de Blauwburgwal, sneeuwt het onafgebroken. De vlokken dwarrelen zacht naar beneden en blijven liggen op de kade, op de aangemeerde boten en tegen de gevels van de grachtenpanden. De lange rij historische huizen vormt een rustig, bijna ritmisch perspectief—donker baksteen, lichte kozijnen, daken subtiel bestoven met sneeuw. De straat oogt ongewoon leeg. Geen verkeer, nauwelijks beweging. Voetstappen verdwijnen langzaam onder een nieuwe laag wit. Een enkele fietser duwt zijn fiets langs de gracht. Lantaarns werpen een warme gloed over de sneeuw en verzachten het koude winterlicht. Achter enkele ramen brandt licht—klein en stil—als teken van leven in een verder verstilde stad. De open kruising bij de Blauwburgwal versterkt het gevoel van ruimte en rust, alsof Amsterdam hier even ademhaalt. Doordat het verkeer vrijwel ontbreekt, krijgt de sneeuw de kans om te blijven liggen. Geluid wordt gedempt, lijnen worden eenvoudiger en het tempo zakt vanzelf. Mensen lopen langzamer, kijken om zich heen, blijven even staan. Er is overlast, zonder twijfel—maar ook verwondering. Op deze winterdag voelt Amsterdam kleiner, stiller en bijna tijdloos. En zelfs hier, in het hart van de stad, blijft de sneeuw liggen: zeldzaam, kwetsbaar en juist daarom zo bijzonder.
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 Brouwersgracht and Herengracht in Amsterdam, by the Melkmeisjesbrug. Fresh snow blankets the bridge, bikes, canal path 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.
A Great Tit pauses on a snow‑covered branch, a brief moment of resilience and calm. In its bright eye, there’s a hint of hope for the sun amid the winter cold.
The faux crow.
A crow decoy, covered in icy cobwebs. At Staple Fitzpaine in Taunton Deane, Somerset.
It’s been too long since I went out with a camera. A rather better day, yesterday, encouraged a visit to the RHS site at Bridgewater.
A Red Twig Dogwood (cornus sericea) was of particular note with its striking red stems. This deciduous shrub is known for its bright and vibrant stem colours, which intensify after the leaves fall in autumn, making it a fantastic addition to landscapes for winter interest.
Winter dogwood shrubs can grow up to 6-9 feet tall and wide, forming a dense, bushy structure. They’re often used for hedging or as a focal point in winter gardens as here. They prefer moist, well-drained soil and can tolerate a variety of conditions, from full sun to partial shade. However, pruning it in early spring can help rejuvenate the plant and encourage the brightest stem colours.
Two Sundays ago, I decided to go out to photograph one of my favorite schoolhouses. It was a mistake, partly, because my truck got stranded temporarily due to windy coming from south, causing snowdrift over the county roads. I used the normal four-wheel drive, but I have to switch to the 'deep snow' mode, which helped me to get out. After I finally arrived to my destination, and immediately photograph the schoolhouse, with some different perspectives (you can see the other pic I posted a while ago). After I finished photographing the schoolhouse, I went back to the same route I came from, but nope the road, especially west and east routes, looked worse ... I mean, the snowdrift looked taller, so had to use my strategy on how to get myself out and decided to drive south toward the highway and made it home.
It was a very interesting day for me, LOL!
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Found this little gray-capped rosy-finch perched up in a tree one day last winter. While I usually see them as a flock or a "bouquet" of finches, this one was all alone. Against the monochromatic winter sky, I thought it looked so pretty. They feed on seeds, insects, and vegetation by ground foraging. This is one of 3 different rosy-finches found in North America, including the brown-capped rosy-finch and the black roy-finch. Such a joy to find them when out in nature.
Happy Monday to all!
© Debbie Tubridy Photography
Drück mich/touch me
Original keine Art von Manipulationen • Original document any kind of manipulation
Raureif wächst gegen den Wind, da die luvseitig ankommende Luft einen höheren Feuchtigkeitsgrad als im Lee in sich trägt. Das Phänomen der Entstehung von Raureif tritt vergleichsweise selten auf.
In shadow on the ridge west of Mynydd Moel looking towards the mostly sunlit summit of Cadair Idris.
This photo is from a series of photos of “spiky hoarfrost” I took during a walk nearby. This event was the first ever "spiky" version I’ve seen here. All other times the hoarfrost was shorter and more rounded and the temperatures were about 10-20 degrees F colder. Both ways are exquisitely beautiful. I’m so grateful to have a macro lens that sees details I could never see! Fog had been present about six hours through the night and this frost was seen only on the north side of surfaces. It was just below freezing, so as the fog lifted and the temperature began to rise, these spikes softened to a version of slush.