I was working in New York when the snow started coming down, I skipped breakfast and went for a walk in Central Park and was hungry but happy I did.
I grew up in Fargo. What did I do at 5 AM when it was 35 below and the wind was howling? My paper route.
But despite years of early morning childhood trauma sometime in the last ten years I realized that winter is my favorite season. It must be genetic. I almost enjoy shoveling snow. It’s some kind of spiritual, physical meditation for me. And playing in the snow with my bundled up little boys is easily an annual peak experience.
If you look out your window and see incredible beauty, the time to go outside with your camera is now.
The magic of the ice storm was gone about twenty minutes after I shot this photograph—I was wearing pajamas under my winter coat when I did. Sometimes, that’s what it takes.
I can’t think of any other natural phenomena that transforms the planet like snow. It’s so utterly beautiful. If there were only one country with snow they would easily be the number one tourist destination in the world. Pure white stuff that covers everything changes everything about everything.
But if you want to photograph snow you need to be on your toes. If you look out your window and see incredible beauty the time to go outside with your camera is now. It’s a mistake to think you can go outside in an hour and expect things to be unchanged. That wet snow clinging to tree branches will not be there for long—the wind and sun have their own agenda. Kids and mailmen and dogs will trudge across any pristine patch of solid white they can find. Snow is constantly morphing .
If you see an incredible snow scene you have to drop everything and photograph it now.
