View allAll Photos Tagged ColdWeather
A green-winged teal lifts from the winter marsh, its wings briefly mirrored in the still water below. For a moment, sky and reflection become one — motion suspended between what is and what is remembered.
Snowflakes dance quietly from the sky and settle like a soft veil over the landscape. Everything is quiet, almost magical—as if the world has stopped breathing for a moment.
In the middle of winter, she stands wrapped up warm in the snow, holding her cuddly bear tightly in her arms.
A gift from her dear friend Raija.
Not a real animal, not a little creature with a heartbeat – but a stuffed animal that invites you to cuddle.
The snow continues to fall, the wooden house in the background looks like something out of a winter fairy tale, and at this moment, only one thing matters: this little piece of warmth in her arms.
Sometimes you don't need a fireplace.
Just a cuddly bear and inner peace.
Icicles
#roberteede #icicles #photooftheday #photo #photography #blue #bluewinter #winter #moody #mood #icy #ice #cold #coldweather #jessopsmoment
Bright, sunny yet bitterly cold and windy. Took pictures through the window. This floofy little bully was guarding "his" bush from a small flock of Cedar Waxwings that kept stopping by and getting run off by this guy.
Close-up of a black beetle perched on frost-covered grass in a natural outdoor setting during winter.
Night photography of a heavy linked-steel chain, and its hanging icicles reflecting the soulless green lighting of this forgotten frozen space I have mistakenly encroached on.
Have a wonderful evening..
I have visited this church for the third time, with my first two visits occurring during warm weather. Since the leaves have not yet grown, I decided to stop by and take some photos. The church is located in Clay County, Nebraska.
At the end of its slackened leash of thick steel links, the icicles grin, baring teeth of menacing frozen spikes.
A night time photograph of icicles from the recent ice storm we had here in Eugene, Oregon USA.
Thank you for your visits. Have a great day!
photo rights reserved by Ben
The Peace Monument also known as the Friendship Monument or the Russia-Georgia Friendship Monument at the Jvari Pass in Georgia is a striking structure erected in 1983 to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the Georgian-Russian Treaty of Georgievsk 1783. This treaty marked the beginning of a closer political and military alliance between the Kingdom of Kartli-Kakheti (in present-day Georgia) and the Russian Empire. Its purpose was to protect Georgia from invasions by hostile powers. The monument is built in the form of a semicircular stone structure and is located at a panoramic point along the Jvari Pass, a mountain pass on the Georgian Military Road. This area is located in the Caucasus Mountains and offers spectacular views of the surrounding mountains and valleys. The monument consists of colorful mosaics depicting scenes from Georgian history and culture, as well as the theme of peace and unity. Although the monument was intended as a symbol of friendship between Georgia and Russia, it has attracted controversy in later years due to the complex historical and political relations between the two countries, particularly after Georgia's independence in 1991 and subsequent conflicts. Today, it is seen more as a tourist attraction than a political symbol. The monument is a popular stop for travelers exploring the Georgian Military Road due to its impressive views and historical significance.
This photograph shows a section of the Peace Monument at the Jvari Pass in Georgia. The colorful mosaic, which is prominently placed on the stone arch structure, illustrates themes such as history, culture, and the connection between Georgia and Russia. The artwork features figures, symbols, and scenes that reference both traditional Georgian and Russian elements. These dates refer to the 200th anniversary of the Treaty of Georgievsk (1783). This treaty established an alliance between Georgia and the Russian Empire, which at the time was intended to protect Georgia from foreign threats. In the center is a large central figure. This appears to be a woman holding a child, symbolizing peace, motherland, or protection. On either side are scenes of knights and horses. These images emphasize the fighting spirit and heroism, as well as the historical stories that connect both nations. The three arches below the artwork are part of the semi-circular construction of the monument. In the background is a snow-covered landscape, representing the rugged and scenic terrain of the Jvari Pass.
Het Peace Monument ook bekend als het Friendship Monument of het Russia-Georgia Friendship Monument bij de Jvari-pas in Georgië is een opvallend bouwwerk dat in 1983 werd opgericht om het 200-jarige jubileum van het Georgisch-Russische Verdrag van Georgievsk 1783 te herdenken. Dit verdrag markeerde het begin van een nauwere politieke en militaire alliantie tussen het Koninkrijk Kartli-Kachetië (in het huidige Georgië) en het Russische Rijk. Het doel was om Georgië te beschermen tegen invallen van vijandige mogendheden. Het monument is gebouwd in de vorm van een halfronde stenen structuur en bevindt zich op een panoramisch punt langs de Jvari-pas, een bergpas op de Georgische Militaire Weg. Dit gebied ligt in het Kaukasusgebergte en biedt spectaculaire uitzichten op de omliggende bergen en valleien. Het monument bestaat uit kleurrijke mozaïeken die scènes uit de Georgische geschiedenis en cultuur uitbeelden, evenals het thema van vrede en eenheid. Hoewel het monument bedoeld was als symbool van vriendschap tussen Georgië en Rusland, heeft het in latere jaren controverse opgeroepen vanwege de complexe historische en politieke relaties tussen de twee landen, met name na de onafhankelijkheid van Georgië in 1991 en de daaropvolgende conflicten. Tegenwoordig wordt het meer gezien als een toeristische trekpleister dan als een politiek symbool. Het monument is een populaire stop voor reizigers die de Georgische Militaire Weg verkennen vanwege het indrukwekkende uitzicht en de historische betekenis.
Extreme Winter continues with a recent shot from a very cold day. The Polar Vortex was upon us. It's gone now, weather is mild, but we had a week of icy skies and numbing wind.
This is a 22° sun halo with parhelia ("sundogs"), a faint sun pillar (above) and stronger sunstreak (below). They intersect with the horizontal section of the parhelic circle to form a "white cross" - the first one I've ever photographed. The tiny white dots visible near the top are ice crystals falling to earth.
All these phenomena are produced by refraction and reflection from hexagonal ice crystals in the atmosphere. They are seen only on very cold days. I didn't use any filters or special enhancement, other than to adjust vibrance and contrast to taste in Photoshop.
I didn't even get out of my car for this shot - it was bitterly cold out there! Instead, I pulled off Hwy 4 onto a grid road, parked diagonally to shoot out of the driver side window, and almost immediately had to move when a pickup truck appeared in my rearview mirror. The driver saw what I was up to and gave me a wave as she passed. I repositioned the car, got the shot.
I didn't need ISO 640 or a shutter speed of 1/4000 for this shot, but the cold does strange things to one's ability to think, and I was worried that the show in the sky might fade away at any moment. It remained, however, for the duration of my drive home (120 km; about 1 hr 20 minutes if I don't stop). Fortunately today's camera sensors perform superbly at ISO settings that used to produce a lot of noise.
Photographed south of Swift Current, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2024 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
Greenwood Avenue near Danforth. The bright yellow hydrant stood out against the falling snow and quiet winter street.
The stone barn, also known as The Frank Schott Stone Barn, located in western Minnesota, was constructed by German immigrant Frank Schott in 1923, showcasing exemplary Midwestern architectural innovation.
According to the Minnesota Historical Society's historical account, the structure's completion took nearly 20 years.
Following the collapse of the barn's wooden roof in 1993, the stone walls continue to stand.
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.
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.
The low winter sun forms a striking sunstar above a frozen Sandebukta, seen from Selvik toward Holmestrand. The snow-covered shoreline curves gently into the fjord while faint footprints trace a quiet human presence in an otherwise still landscape. In winter along the inner Oslofjord, calm and cold conditions can freeze sheltered bays like this, creating natural patterns in snow and ice that photographers love to capture.
Fun fact 1: The dramatic sunstar effect appears when shooting with a small aperture (like f/11–f/16 or smaller), where the blades in the objective create the distinct rays of light.
Fun fact 2: Complete freezing of inner parts of the Oslofjord is uncommon and usually requires extended periods of stable cold weather, low wind, and limited tidal movement—conditions that only align a few times each decade.
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—if at all—and the rhythm of daily life comes to an abrupt halt. Streets turn into pale, silent corridors, calendars empty out, and the country is forced to slow down. Yet this weather also brings something rare. Silence. Stillness. A city momentarily freed from its usual rush. Normally, the centre of Amsterdam is always just a little warmer. Urban density, traffic and water usually prevent snow from lingering—quickly turning it wet, grey, and gone. But not today. Along the Herengracht, at the corner of the Blauwburgwal, snow falls steadily. Soft flakes drift down and settle on the bridge, along the quay, and on rows of parked bicycles. Saddles, spokes and carriers slowly disappear beneath a quiet layer of white, as if time itself has paused. Dark canal water flows slowly beneath the bridge, framed by a classic perspective of Amsterdam’s canal houses. Brick façades, pale window frames and snow-dusted roofs form a subdued winter scene. Bare trees trace delicate lines against the muted sky. The street feels unusually empty. No traffic, hardly any movement. Just an occasional pedestrian crossing the bridge, footsteps fading as fresh snow settles. Lanterns along the canal cast a warm glow onto the snow, softening the cold winter light. Behind a few windows, lights are on—small, warm, and still—quiet signs of life in an otherwise hushed city. Without traffic, the snow is allowed to stay. Sound is muffled, lines grow simpler, and the pace slows naturally. People walk more slowly, look around, pause for a moment. There is disruption, without doubt—but also wonder. On this winter day, Amsterdam feels smaller, quieter, and almost timeless. And even here, at the corner of the Herengracht and the Blauwburgwal, the snow remains: rare, fragile, and therefore all the more special.
Snowfall at the corner of the Herengracht and Blauwburgwal, Amsterdam. Soft flakes settle on the bridge and the parked bicycles as the city slows down. Warm lantern light and quiet canals turn this familiar corner into a rare moment of winter stillness.
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. Straten veranderen in witte banen, agenda’s worden leeg en het land schakelt ongewild een versnelling terug. Tegelijkertijd heeft dit weer ook iets bijzonders. Stilte. Vertraging. Een stad die even ophoudt met haasten. Normaal gesproken is het centrum van Amsterdam altijd nét een paar graden warmer. Door bebouwing, verkeer en stedelijke warmte blijft sneeuw hier zelden lang liggen — nat, grijs, verdwenen. Maar vandaag niet. Op de Herengracht, ter hoogte van de Blauwburgwal, sneeuwt het onafgebroken. Dichte, zachte vlokken dwarrelen neer en blijven liggen op de brug, langs de kade en op de rij geparkeerde fietsen. De sneeuw stapelt zich rustig op: op zadels, spaken en bagagedragers, alsof de tijd hier even is stilgezet. Het water van de gracht stroomt donker en traag onder de brug door, omlijst door een karakteristiek perspectief van grachtenpanden. Donkere bakstenen gevels, lichte kozijnen en besneeuwde daken vormen samen een verstild winterdecor. Kale bomen tekenen fijne lijnen tegen een bleke lucht. De straat oogt ongewoon leeg. Geen auto’s, nauwelijks beweging. Alleen een enkele wandelaar, langzaam voortgaand door de sneeuw. Lantaarnpalen langs de gracht werpen een warme gloed over het wit en brengen contrast in het zachte winterlicht. Achter enkele ramen brandt licht — klein, warm en stil — als teken van leven in een verder verstilde stad. Zonder verkeer krijgt de sneeuw hier de ruimte 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, op de hoek van de Herengracht en de Blauwburgwal, blijft de sneeuw liggen: zeldzaam, kwetsbaar en precies daarom zo bijzonder.