Hazy Shade of Winter: A January without Snow!

February 11, 2025  |  Topics: Stories

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By Eddee Daniel

“In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.” ~ Christina Rossetti

Bleak midwinter? Snow on snow on snow? Well, this year that does feel like long ago. I never expected it to feel like spring in January. But one fine sunny day recently it reached 53º and felt even warmer! It was equal parts exhilarating and frightening. I went out, of course, to enjoy the “unseasonal” balm. But it also made me wonder, what other impending changes does this augur? How bad can it get?

Having a pleasantly warm day in January may seem like a specious complaint. After all, with California burning and the Southeast pummeled by record-shattering hurricanes, things could clearly be worse. But that is exactly the issue: imagining those fates might befall us here in the heartland is what makes this peculiar example of climate change weirdly frightening.

We did have a couple weeks of extreme cold in the mix. What we didn’t have, whether frigid or balmy, was snow. This was the most noticeable feature of January 2025—and, to me at least, the most disheartening. This isn’t me overreacting either. According to a story in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, this was the driest January on record. (It isn’t as if there is no snow anywhere. Other parts of the country have had plenty!)

As someone who photographs the natural world the lack of snow affects me personally. The presence of snow in the landscape signals winter. Photographs of snowless scenes seldom evoke the season. When looking for quotes about January I discovered that many people don’t like the month. Author Roald Dahl even said, “If I had my way, I’d remove January from the calendar altogether and have an extra July instead.”

Not me. I look forward to January as the most reliable winter month. At least it used to be.

For a long while this season I waited for the snow. I didn’t go out. Or I went out without my camera, for the exercise. But after a frost-free, desultory period of going outdoors for physical exercise alone, I decided I needed some creative exercise.

It does no good to give in to despair. The world remains. The parks are still there.

I began to go out again with an eye for photographs. The cold snap had turned many area rivers into virtual roads. “Water like a stone,” as the poet said. This gave me a starting place. I could stroll into normally inaccessible territory. The Fox River allowed me to venture into a vast wetland in Brookfield’s Mitchell Park. I reached a remarkably remote point where nothing was visible in any direction except the horizon and the overarching sky (see photo at top).

The Root River led me deep into what felt like untamed wilderness. The river writhed like a spooked snake, twisting and turning until it was easy to lose all sense of direction. Trees, contorted by the elements, bent over the tunnel-like channel. Animal tracks of various sizes and configurations crisscrossed the ice, which was lightly dusted with snow. I had to tread carefully around occasional black holes of burbling water. After about an hour of this, rounding yet another bend, I suddenly came upon a picnic table perched on the riverbank. I glimpsed a fallow field through the trees. Not so far from civilization after all!

Things don’t always go as expected. I thought I’d walk on the Bark River through the wetland at Hartland Marsh Preserve. But when I got there I discovered that the river was mysteriously ice-free. At the Mukwonago River State Natural Area I was greeted by an enormous flock of geese floating on open water. I tried to sidle stealthily closer for a photo, but they were having none of me. Hundreds of geese were abruptly in the air; I barely caught them as they disappeared in the distance.

I have to wonder how the lack of snow cover affects the wildlife. What happens when voles can’t tunnel under the snow to get around? Did hawks have a month-long field day catching them? I saw a coyote the other day, traipsing along the berm in the Milwaukee County Grounds in bright midday sun. It was scrawny, unkempt and seemed underfed, perhaps mangy. I watched it trot a long distance until it vanished, its fur the exact color of the snowless landscape. Meanwhile two hawks circled methodically overhead, ever watchful.

It’s not completely true that it didn’t snow. It did. Once. But to say it snowed one day in January is to make sadly poignant the larger truth, that the entire season has been unseasonable. I rushed out that morning to see what I could capture in the moment, how many places I could get to while the snow was fresh. But it didn’t last. We also got dusted with snow a few times, but by noon nothing remained but the drab tan tones of dead grasses and desiccated leaves.

The saving grace was winter light, which is always magical. The low angle of the sun that photographers crave, which in other seasons comes just after dawn or before dusk, is present all day long at this time of year. On sunny days those grasses and leaves can be as incandescent as amber and luscious as candied ginger.

Our one day of snow totaled a paltry 1.3 inches. Another frightening aspect of all this is not knowing whether there will ever be a “normal” again. But one thing is certain. The parks and preserves that comprise southeast Wisconsin’s wealth of nature await the adventurous in all seasons and weather conditions.

“But look around, Leaves are brown / And the sky is a hazy shade of winter….” ~ Paul Simon

As usual, the links in the captions will lead you to the Find-a-Park page for each highlighted park or preserve so that you can learn more about them and see more photos. Of course, you can always find many more places to explore on our Find-a-Park map.

Related stories:

How to have fun safely on ice

Walking on the River!

Searching for snow and serenity: Bristol County Park

Eddee Daniel is a board member of Preserve Our Parks.

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