Ladue Reservoir in Winter

The same thing happened last year. The snow had fallen and was fleeting before I even arrived. By the time I had finished hugs hello and charged my battery, most of those tasty snowflakes had melted into a sea of soggy salt and snowmen. It's mostly little things that I overlooked in Ohio that I miss the most in San Diego. Not that I necessarily have a newfound appreciation for them, but miss the act of overlooking nice things I took for granted. LaDue reservoir, although a fun fishing hole in the summer, was mostly overlooked in the winter. Despite the drab day, I chucked out the side door and borrowed truck to see it again.

Auburn Road over LaDue. A view that hasn't changed in 20 years.

Cold grass.

Bobbers draped over powerlines. If you cast just right, you could reel in the catch and cook it on the high voltage lines. Cast too low, and people heard something fishy on the phone lines.

When the fish aren't biting, some people try everything. I think some fisherman decided to try everything at once. Casting out a full fish buffet, however, has its downsides.

Tracing the waterline with low branches.

During a dry summer, these plants to tried to claim new reservoir-front property.

Layers of lake include cold water, cold water on cold ice on the cold water, ice on the cold water, and snow on the cold ice on the cold water. Swimming, anyone?

With Ohio being the sedentary state that it has become, rarely do triathlon trees come into focus. This young sapling is on track for a world record as it crosses the lake, although it has a reputation for giving up some ground on the cycling portion of the race.

Somewhere underneath, the fish are cuddled up, slowly rumoring about the glass ceiling keeping them from upper management.

What lights, phones, and tv look like before thawing in Ohio houses.

Cattails bundled up.

Meow.

Forever bob, my friend.

Auburn road is one of the major access roads to Ladue. The other is 86. To get there, I drove pass a good frozen field.

Not a house in sight. Arguably better than an ocean view.

86 cuts right over one of the wider stretches of the reservoir.

Geesing.

All is calm. All is calm.

My first frozen barn. Good context with the water and farmhouse. A nice sense of subtle space. Now, if only the rest of the world would stand at arms length apart...

A wild, canadian helicopter.

Everyone along the waterfront does its best to keep the lake in place.

Heavy clouds thinned into fertile strips of farmland. Whether rain or sun was the harvest I'd find out soon.

Sun it is. Whew.

A barn in its natural state.

Sun rays run rays to reaching trees.

Overlooked no more.

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