It is bitter cold, and at dusk, the landscape was eerie, the snow was heavy, and as is our custom, we went out to visit the animals and check on them. They came rushing out to see if we had hay, and they retreated into the pole barn, which was dry and sheltered from the wind.

It wouldn’t wish to be an animal on nights like this, but then, that’s my issue, not theirs. When I go out in this cold and snow, I have to take at least one glove off to picture.

The first year I moved upstate, the fingers on my right hand and two on my life suffered from frostbite. It was a -30 degree night, and those are rare now.

I got help quickly enough that I didn’t lose any fingers or fingertips, but they do get white in the cold, and the pain is sometimes breathtaking.

I got my pictures and came inside – I was outside too long with gloves – and there is really nothing to do but stick the hands in my pocket (or Maria’s) and wait for them to warm up.

After 10 or 12 minutes, the pain starts to go away, but it is draining. It makes me think.

This is one of those tradeoffs. I live in upstate New York in the winter and love to take photos in the snow.

So there will be some discomfort when I take my gloves off. It’s a fair deal, I’ve tried different kinds of gloves that will keep my hand warm and let me use the camera, but they don’t work, aren’t warm, or get in the way.

I’ve learned when to get inside, and I even have a wax melt to use if I think of it, which I didn’t today.