Dear Powderhorn,

This may not be an original self-portrait. Many photographers have shots of themselves in the mirror with their camera to their eye. However, given that this is my last photo as a Powderhorn 365 core photographer (hopefully, I'll be asked to guest in 2011), a photo of my reflection is appropriate subject matter.

This has been an amazing year for me. I have stretched myself as a photographer; and learned more about the art form, and more about the Powderhorn neighborhood (both its people and its nature). Each Saturday I went out without a clue as to what images I would come home with. I hope that the photos look effortless, because most of the time the effort was in patiently searching for a subject. I became a story teller whose medium was images. The storyteller should sometimes be the subject.

In gratitude,

Sue

On a day when Minneapolis called a no travel advisory, this Powderhorn resident walked the street to get where he needed to go at around 8 a.m.

One of the best things about this neighborhood is peoples' willingness to stop and help others out. With so many cars trapped in their parking spots, many had trouble getting out today. My friends got a little stuck in the drifts, but three neighbors came up one after the other to lend a hand.

My friend, Corynn, came to Powderhorn today to take photos with me. She is taking a photography class at MCTC. While we were out, she was greeted by one of the smallest neighborhood welcoming committees I've ever seen.

The crows have been in rare form this winter. Maybe I have a short memory, but I do not recall them being so vociferous last winter. This afternoon I watched as herds of crows grazed in the park, and took turns to watch from trees for danger. I heard them make a cooing type of sound to warn of a predator (one that I couldn't see). Eventually, I watched as three crows chased a predator bird (hawk or falcon) over my head and across Bloomington Ave away from the park. They are like a little mafia! I chose this particular photograph because I love the contrast of the black against the bright, white snow. When I look at him, I cannot help but be drawn in to the glint in his black eye.

This corn is tied to a tree branch and dangles about four feet from the ground. The squirrel craftily pulls the string up to him and plucks niblets off of the cob. This, in turn, keeps them from raiding the bird feeder.