A winter without snow

I live just a couple of hundred yards from the Boise River, whose course provides the right-of-way for our Green Belt. As it winds its way through the city of Boise it provides a generous variety of scenery and natural attractions. The little stretch near me has several stands of cottonwood forests, islands, and ponds that I've become quite familiar with. It's odd that that familiarity contributes to my not taking my camera along most of the times I traipse through and around it, which is often. Perhaps I'm just not pushing myself enough to look for photos.

A week ago I saw an afternoon sky developing and I thought it might offer a promise of possibility, particularly for HDR, so I suited up for the 15 degree weather, donned my Nikon, perched my tripod on my shoulder, and lit out to the river. By the time I got there, the sky I in which I had seen so much promise had morphed into something completely different, but I was here and had the gear, so I was going to take some pictures. After all, one doesn't go to all this preparation and then not follow through.

Here's what happened:





This happens almost every time I have my camera with me: I'm really glad I did.

Inertia. It really can by one's enemy!