"Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will sense them."
— Annie Dillard
Alas, no bird or wildlife photos (again) — my inspiration for that runs thin in the frigid cold — but it doesn't stop bundled-up shoreline hikes along the Wisconsin River. While doing so, I like to think about all the critters tucked beneath the snow and ice. Tiger beetle season isn't far off now, and I'm already wondering which will break the surface first: Bronzed, Oblique-lined, or Festive?
Tiger beetles turn a stretch of sand into a story of survival. They're small, fast, and easy to overlook, but once you start watching them, you begin reading the ground itself — microhabitats, season, moisture, plant edges, and the quiet signs of life eking out an existence at the margins. Photographing them isn't just about the beetles; it's about learning the landscape through the smallest, sharpest lives moving across it. Even in their absence, I find something to appreciate in how they endure our brutal winter months.
Maybe not headline material, but ice formations still make for quiet, compelling photographic subjects.
Endless forms ...
On birds ...
Common Mergansers (FOY) and Common Goldeneye worked the river current, while a lone Bald Eagle passed overhead. Along a gravel road near the parking area, I turned up a few Horned Larks and Lapland Longspurs, with Dark-eyed Juncos, Northern Cardinals, and American Tree Sparrows as well. Complaining calls of Canada Geese felt aimed at the cold itself — though I know that's my own anthropomorphism creeping in.
All images © 2026 Mike McDowell