Last week, during a break between blizzards, I journeyed out to the Des Plaines River Trail for a trek through the elements. Dressed head to toe in Gore-Tex, I felt warm and toasty despite the foot of standing snow and sub-freezing temperatures. I started out at Gowe Park in Gurnee and headed south, and was immediately struck by the unusual formations of ice and snow covering the trees and rocks along the river. Raised above the snow cover of the forest floor, shelves of ice jutted out parallel to the ground and housed snowy, dome-like coverings. Bare branches were covered with fine layers of frosted ice, giving the scenery the overall quality of a real-life "winter wonderland".
Around a bend in the river, a group of mallards floated close to the opposite bank and eyed me with casual interest. The other animals seemed to be hiding, though the snow revealed the footprints of multiple birds and small mamals. Bright red caught my eye as I headed south, and I stopped to admire some plump berries that stood out in sharp contrast to the mostly white and brown surroundings. Overhead, the sun cast a hazy yellow halo through the blue and gray, and I snapped a picture through the treetops before pushing on.
Crossing a wooden foot bridge I was surprised when, looking down, my gaze was met by that of a great blue heron. I had seen herons in the forest fairly infrequently, and usually from a good distance across land or flying high overhead. This one was maybe ten feet below me, perched on a fallen tree in the stream, and didn't seem perticularly bothered by my presence. We watched each other for a few moments, the bird looking at me with what looked like bemused curiosity, and I snapped a couple of pictures before pressing onward.
I crossed an open field and watched a hawk float high overhead, scanning the ground. I noticed some sets of small tracks in the snow, but no sign of the creatures that left them. I decided I would press on for another mile or so before doubling back. The buckling and rising of ice n the depressions, coupled with the recently fallen snow, made for some impressive natural sculptures. Ice ledges rose and fell around the bases of tree trunks in accordance with the slopes of the landscape, creating some rare visual treats. I passed a couple pastoral streams, listening for animals but not hearing much through the dampening snow besides the occasional bird chirp. I did, however, notice something on a tree a little further up that I had passed on my out- the bark towards the base was shredded in vertical stripes, the telltale handiwork of a deer's antlers. I reached the parking lot and hopped back in my car, rosy-cheeked, and basking in the appreciation of the beauty that nature exhibits even in the dead of winter.
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Around a bend in the river, a group of mallards floated close to the opposite bank and eyed me with casual interest. The other animals seemed to be hiding, though the snow revealed the footprints of multiple birds and small mamals. Bright red caught my eye as I headed south, and I stopped to admire some plump berries that stood out in sharp contrast to the mostly white and brown surroundings. Overhead, the sun cast a hazy yellow halo through the blue and gray, and I snapped a picture through the treetops before pushing on.
Crossing a wooden foot bridge I was surprised when, looking down, my gaze was met by that of a great blue heron. I had seen herons in the forest fairly infrequently, and usually from a good distance across land or flying high overhead. This one was maybe ten feet below me, perched on a fallen tree in the stream, and didn't seem perticularly bothered by my presence. We watched each other for a few moments, the bird looking at me with what looked like bemused curiosity, and I snapped a couple of pictures before pressing onward.
I crossed an open field and watched a hawk float high overhead, scanning the ground. I noticed some sets of small tracks in the snow, but no sign of the creatures that left them. I decided I would press on for another mile or so before doubling back. The buckling and rising of ice n the depressions, coupled with the recently fallen snow, made for some impressive natural sculptures. Ice ledges rose and fell around the bases of tree trunks in accordance with the slopes of the landscape, creating some rare visual treats. I passed a couple pastoral streams, listening for animals but not hearing much through the dampening snow besides the occasional bird chirp. I did, however, notice something on a tree a little further up that I had passed on my out- the bark towards the base was shredded in vertical stripes, the telltale handiwork of a deer's antlers. I reached the parking lot and hopped back in my car, rosy-cheeked, and basking in the appreciation of the beauty that nature exhibits even in the dead of winter.
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