View allAll Photos Tagged ColdWeather
The faux crow.
A crow decoy, covered in icy cobwebs. At Staple Fitzpaine in Taunton Deane, Somerset.
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.
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.
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.
A Canada Jay calls softly from a snow-dusted spruce as winter settles over the boreal forest. Fluffed against the cold, the bird pauses amid lichen-covered branches while snowflakes drift through the still air, a reminder that even in the quietest season, the forest is full of life.
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.
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.
Hamburg an einem Nebeligen Tag in der Großen Elbstraße. Hamburg on a foggy day in the Großer Elbstraße.
In shadow on the ridge west of Mynydd Moel looking towards the mostly sunlit summit of Cadair Idris.
For Macro Mondays. This week’s theme: “Pick Two".
My Choice is "Speckled + Glass": frost crystals on the Cold Cellar Window.
Extreme cold warning for Southern Ontario Canada on Sunday as it was -25C and a wind chill values of -40 C.
HMM
♥ Thank you very much for your visits, faves, and kind comments ♥
En lo más crudo del invierno
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
(Christina Rosetti)
This photo was taken during a walk in a heavy snowstorm. The snowflakes drifting diagonally across the image show the force of the wind and lend a special dynamism to the scene at the crossroads. The contribution was made for the theme “Whispers of Nature” in the group “Our Daily Challenge.”
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Wegkreuz im Schneesturm
Dieses Foto wurde während eines Spaziergangs in einem heftigen Schneesturm aufgenommen. Die diagonal durchs Bild ziehenden Schneeflocken zeigen die Kraft des Windes und verleihen der Szene am Wegkreuz eine besondere Dynamik. Das Foto wurde für das Thema „Whispers of Nature” in der Gruppe „Our Daily Challenge” gemacht.
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WHISPERS OF NATURE is the topic for 3.- 9. January 2026, Group Our Daily Challenge
Backyard birdbaths in Autumn...fallen Garry oak leaf on ice.
Photography: Nikon D750, Tokina 100mm f2.8.
This beaver was moving this big stick to repair its lodge but took the time to stop and pose for the camera before he moved on.
As the sun dips behind the bare trees, skaters move across the outdoor rink at Dieppe Park in East York. The low winter light reflects off the ice, catching skate marks as evening settles in.
More on the blog: www.agreatcapture.com/blog/2026/1/9/late-day-walk-in-east...
Winter evenings have a way of slowing everything down. The snow softens the city, the lamps glow a little warmer, and familiar places feel quietly transformed — a night like tonight, with even more snow falling now.
On a cold night in 2018, Allan Gardens glowed against the snow, a small pocket of warmth in the city. A passerby crossed the frame, adding scale and a sense of quiet movement to the garden's stillness.
This year marks 20 years of seeing here on Flickr, shaped by scenes like this one.
Thank you for being part of the journey.
More from Jan 15th on the blog: www.agreatcapture.com/blog/2026/1/16/january-15th-walk-af...
Press “L” to see this image larger.
This photo is another one 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 lens that sees details I could never see! Fog had been present about six hours through the night and this frost descended on several plants. It was just below freezing, so as the fog lifted and the temperature began to rise, these spikes either dropped off the surfaces or softened to a version of slush.
After spending an hour in the cozy coffee shop, catching up with friends, you find yourself standing at a crosswalk as everyone leaves. The temperature has dropped significantly to 36°F since you left home and you realize that perhaps you should have dressed more warmly. Based on your body language and expression, you understand the mistake. #streetphotography
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A serene winter scene with city skyscrapers bathed in soft sunset light. Footprints trail across the snowy expanse, capturing moments of tranquility amidst urban life.