~
Tuesday, March 31, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
29 degrees, calm, overcast, flurries
A fine scattering of snow brightens the morning view,
not enough to measure, still sifting slowly through the
high
grey clouds. The sun is due to appear later, and a return
to fine
spring weather has been predicted for the rest of the
week. This part
of the Hill is conspicuously bereft of birds; I cannot
spy even one among
the trees and meadows within our view. I think
yesterday’s blustery wind blew
them clean away, and it may take a bit of time before
they again feel safe here at
the top of the world. It is as calm this morning as it
was wild yesterday; March
seems to be leaving like a lamb, just like the old-timers
always say. Hooray,
here come the first visitors of the day, bluebirds! They
are sitting on the old
clothesline outside my window, posing as if for a
portrait, but I know they
will be long gone by the time I get to the camera. They
are as true a blue
as they will ever be, both nearly the same deep cerulean
hue embedded
in the feathers of their backs and wings. The male will
retain his bright
color throughout the summer, but the female will fade
somewhat after
her first brood, and by the second or third will only be
recognizable
by the dusky orange of her breast. Now a few starlings
have
arrived; looks like it will soon be business as usual.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, March 30, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
32 degrees, windy, cloudy, drizzle
Yesterday’s mild fog and rain have given way
to windblown drizzle,
but the birds sing in spite of the chill. I stood on the
back porch for about
a minute earlier this morning before the blustery
northwest wind drove me back
inside. I won’t be one bit surprised to see a bit of
snow today, not at all unusual for
the cusp of spring. Snowpack in the meadows and other
open land took a big hit from
the mild temperatures, rain, and wind of the past week,
and now it is easier to hike that ter-
rain than to ski. There is still plenty of snow in the
woodlands, and I won’t declare this ski season
over until every last patch smaller than an acre has
disappeared. Yesterday a pair of bluebirds stopped
by to check out our nesting boxes, right on schedule.
Some tree swallows are also in the neighborhood;
they are very early this year, usually showing up a month
later than bluebirds. The two species share the
same requirements for nesting, but I don’t see them
as rivals. If boxes are put up in pairs, chances are
that one will shelter swallows, and the other, bluebirds.
If only one house is erected, most of the time
the swallows will bully the bluebirds into skedaddling.
Swallows are efficient little mosquito killing
machines, worth many times their weight in gold, and we
welcome them. A grackle has already
started to build a nest in one of the backyard spruce
trees, carrying bits of dried bean vines
and other long strands of material for her home. In spite
of the bitter cold wind this
morn ing, it looks like it may be an early spring this
year (so far, anyway.)
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, March 29, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
46 degrees, breezy, overcast, raining
Gentle rain falls all over the area, but that
hasn’t slowed down the
birds at all in their morning activities. In fact, the
rain may have brought
various underground goodies to the surface; the meadow is
swarming with
robins, all pulling up food as fast as they can dip their
beaks. The bedroom win-
dow was open all night and we were delighted to hear the
robins mating songs in
full throttle before dawn; yesterday there were just a
couple in full warble, but this
morning it sounded like the whole class. The rain and
south wind will certainly help
dissolve much of our winter snowpack. There was plenty of
coverage in the woods
yesterday, and we headed up a new logging road to enjoy
the sunny day. The snow
was still firm and zippy, and there was only one area
where we came to a halt, a tan-
gle of blowdowns and brush that looked like it could be
full of potential traps created
by hollow spaces. We toured a couple of swamps, and saw
beautiful sparkling water
on the move between deep mounds of snow. Animal tracks
didn’t register much on
the snowy surface pitted and pocked by Thursday’s
rain, but we saw plenty of por-
cupine poo, and evidence of their presence in groves of
bark-gnawed trees. I’m sur-
prised we didn’t see any of the slow-moving porkies
themselves, but then again,
we weren’t exactly sneaking around. There is
something about being on the trail
with friends on a perfect day that encourages more whoops
and hollers than is
permitted in polite society. Perhaps we save up those
primal sounds for out-
ings such as this, making joyful noise a key part of any
Tug Hill excursion.
What’s next ? Get out the bikes...
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, March 28, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
52 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Oh ! This is the morning I have been looking
forward to ever
since the first hint of spring hit Gomer Hill a couple of
weeks ago.
Yesterday we took the winter siding off of our back porch,
and this
morning we were able to enjoy our steaming morning brews
outdoors,
comfy in canvas chairs with the sun on our bare feet, not
one bit of chill in
the air. Streams of geese passed overhead, one flock
after the other, wall-to-
wall geese heading back north. We heard a couple of
robins singing their spring
mating song, and grackles graaaked at each other
in the birch tree. Snowdrops
bloom all over the back lawn, planted by birds in years
past. There is nothing as
sweet as a sunny spring morning spent doing absolutely
nothing save for steeping
in the wonder of the season, even if for only fifteen
minutes. Oh, wait, there is one
thing comparable, in a totally different way... and that
is spring skiing through the
woods and swamps of Tug Hill, which we did yesterday and
will do again today,
possibly the last ski trek of the season. We had to walk
across some squish to
get to the snow on Slivka Road, but once there the
gliding was wonderfully fast.
I swear I could schuss even on the uphill parts,
no mean feat what with gravity
and all. We intended to access the DEC Trails, but all of
the snow bridges were
gone, swept away by the rushing meltwaters of mighty Mill
Creek. We backtrack-
ed a bit and went to one of my favorite places, a circle
of huge maple trees that have
been spared by woodsmen through time. From there it was
an awesome downhill run
to a few shallow creeks, and we wandered crisscross
through the woodlot that was
one of the first we had harvested many years ago, helping
our neighbor manage his
timber. I had a fleeting memory of a much younger couple
splitting and stacking
hardwood, with two young boys helping by dragging brush
aside, more often
than not building forts instead of staying on task. I
could almost see the
shadow of my father as he ran the lever on the hydraulic
splitter, and
taste the cold gallon of cider we passed around and drank
home-
style, right out of the jug. The brushpiles are long gone,
but
the memories of half a lifetime on Gomer Hill linger.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Friday, March 27, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
36 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Thick fog lingers in the valley, but Gomer Hill is clear
as a bell.
We had some good rain showers late yesterday and into the
night,
but there is still a whole bunch of snow out there,
especially in the woods.
Grackles have shown up to join the redwings, starlings,
crows, and ravens;
now our blackbird symposium is complete. Bluejays, robins,
sparrows, house
finches, juncos, woodpeckers, and chickadees are also
active, and a few turkeys
are in the field next door. Late yesterday nine deer came
out of hiding and searched
for food in the east meadow; they look very thin after a
long hard winter but seem to
be in otherwise good shape. Any day now the dead brown
hayfield thatch will spring
alive with green shoots, and all manner of herbivore will
take note and begin to gather
strength for bearing and nurturing their young. Tulips
and daffodils have just broken
through the surface, and crocuses are ready to pop. There
is an air of yippee !
that accompanies this time of year, a yahoo !
and wheeeeeeee ! of
carefree mudlicious excursions and shirtsleeve outings.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Thursday, March 26, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
29 degrees, breezy, cloudy
A south wind blows moist air across Gomer Hill this
morning, mud-scented
and heavy with the promise of rain. Birds are all over
the place, mostly robins,
crows, and starlings, with a few sparrows here and there.
We spent most of yes-
terday in Watertown, and I searched the yards and gardens
for spring flowers but
all I found were snowdrops. Some of our snowdrops bloomed
last week, and then
froze, so they look a little bedraggled. A few crocuses
in the front yard show bright
yellow buds; I’ll bet they will be abloom before the
weekend is over. We returned to
Gomer Hill in time for a late afternoon walk; although
the sun was bright, the south wind
blowing over woodland snowpack lent a decided chill to
the air. We started up the Smith
Road snowmobile trail, but the snow had softened up too
much to afford good footing, so
we only went a few hundred yards before turning around.
We saw a stray dog; it looked
like a black lab mix, but it was too shy to come near. It
sprinted off into the woods before
I could see if it was wearing a collar. When we left the
slushy snow and stepped onto bare
dirt once again, I saw a flash of blue from the corner of
my eye. There was a pair of blue-
birds perched in a small tree near an old silo. We looked
at each other for a long minute,
then they flew off into a nearby thicket. The first
bluebird sighting of the season is a thrill
for me, one that makes me smile even now. We walked up
the paved road for a bit,
and saw hundreds of redwing blackbirds mobbing big trees,
singing their hearts out.
What a spectacle ! I managed to pack a lot of springtime
joy into one short hour,
very happy to have been able to get out on the Hill after
a day in the city.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, March 25, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
28 degrees, calm, sunny
A large army of robins marches in synch over the bare
garden soil,
close order drilling for worms in the frozen dirt. A
company of chickadees
flits from the lilacs to the apple tree and back, over
and over, looking for stuff
that simply isn’t there yet. That describes me too,
drinking java out of my bluebird
mug, waiting for actual bluebirds to suddenly appear in
the usual spots. I thought I saw
one on the wires down the road on my way to work
yesterday, but it flew off before I could
get a better look. Today is going to be a real gem of a
day, sunny and warming all the way up
into the fifties. I have a couple of meetings in the city,
and hope to get home early enough to
spend some time wallowing in springtime. It will be nice
to see what is going on north of
here; Watertown is usually ahead of Turin with flowers
and such because of its prox-
imity to Lake Ontario, and we may even see a crocus or
two. A change of scenery,
especially if it involves a day in the bustling confusion
of a city, always deepens
my appreciation for what I have right outside my own back
door.
Later,
Daisy
Tuesday, March 24, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
23 degrees, breezy, sunny
There are several loads of laundry waiting by the
back door to go
out on the lines, but the day isn’t warming up very
quickly. Some things
can go out when it is this cold, but anything with
elastic in it will be ruined
by freezing, so I will wait for the sun to work its magic.
Yesterday never got
above freezing, and the north wind was raw. Even off the
Hill the breeze was
fierce, and its bitter bite was the main topic of
conversation as people came in
from the parking lot at my workplace. We tended tender
seedlings indoors yester-
day, and confined our outdoor play to the barn,
organizing skis and poles and mak-
ing a feeble attempt to wrestle my bicycle out of storage,
clearly a job for after the
tractors are moved out. The dog was very intent on
sniffing around under the barn,
and I found out why after lunch; there was a fat rodent
munching on some lawn tid-
bit right by the barn door. It’s large size and
scaly tail identified it as a norway rat,
the first I have seen in many years here on Gomer Hill.
It scooted away to its digs
under the barn when I approached it, and the next time it
popped into the yard
was its last. Ka-boom! We had an invasion of these
messy pests in our cellar
when we first moved here, unaware that they were coming
and going at will
through our drainage pipe. We trapped two or three a day
until I saw one exit
through the drain. After we put a grate on the pipe, that
was the end of the story.
We had chickens in the barn then, and I guess there were
all kinds of things eating
their feed besides the hens. Now the barn is empty of all
livestock, and I can’t ima-
gine what would lure rats to the area. I would like to
think that there was just the
one rat, but that is seldom the case. We will make a
couple of bucket traps and
see what we catch. This is nothing more complex than a 5
gallon pail with a
piece of stiff paper on top. Cut an X in the middle of
the paper, put on some
bait like peanut butter or cornmeal, and when the rodent
goes for the bait
it falls into the pail through the X. It’s the
ultimate catch-and-release
trap, safe and effective. All kinds of critters are
showing up
here lately, coons and skunks and now a rat. What next ?
Have a fine day,
Daisy
Monday, March 23, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
12 degrees, windy, sunny
It is pretty darned cold out there this morning. A
stiff north breeze
sweeps away any illusion of warmth the bright morning
sunshine might
otherwise afford. The wind showed up yesterday afternoon,
and made the
last half mile of our hike a bit uncomfortable. We set
off on the Smith Road
snowmobile trail, walking rather than skiing as it never
got above freezing and
the snow had set up hard as cement. Once within the
protection of tall balsams
and mixed hardwoods, winter’s bite turned into
spring’s promise in an instant.
Three ravens came out of hiding to greet us, checking in
every so often to mark
our progress. Neither snowmobiles nor ATVs appeared for
the two hours that we
walked; this is the brief transition between seasons when
peace returns to Gomer Hill,
and the air is sweet and silent save for birdsong and
other creature calls. A pileated wood-
pecker split the air with its deep wingbeats, and
chickadees tweeted in polite conversation
with each other, oblivious to our presence. Deer were
able to move freely over the hardpack,
and we startled three of them as they pawed the icy edge
of a snowy grotto in search of a drink.
It was so warm and pleasant in the shelter of the trees
that is came as a big shock when we reach-
ed open farmland on the return journey and we were
smacked sideways by an icy north wind. We
picked up the pace and were glad to finally duck into the
barn to gather up some kindling for our
supper fire. Soon the kitchen was redolent with the smell
of roast chicken and the sweet steam
of boiling spuds. Today will remain chilly, but there is
a warming trend as the week progresses,
with maybe a little sprinkle of rain scattered here and
there to keep things interesting.
For now, I am happy to be inside looking out, at least
until the wind dies down.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Sunday, March 22, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
28 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy, flurries
The merest dusting of snow has sifted down
overnight, and a few flakes
still linger in the air, hovering for a long time before
finally touching down.
This is a morning of strong contrasts, with the touch of
wintry frosted flakes
on my cheek as I listen to spring birdsongs and the
gurgle of meltwater rushing
down the ditch at the edge of the road. There is no
breeze, so the snow offers a
refreshing kiss rather than its usual biting sting.
Yesterday we skied at midday, and
had one of the best treks of the season, certainly the
best of the spring (so far). I took
a friend into our woodlot to show her the deep gorge, a
landmark hidden from passing traffic,
a wonderful surprise the first time I laid eyes on it
thirty-three years ago. Shaded forest snowpack
was icy and fast, so we picked our way carefully along
the skid trails until at last we stood at the edge
of the deep shale gully, downcut by the swift-running
stream at the bottom. It is not as magnificent as near-
by Whetstone Gulf, but it is still impressively deep,
with steep shale sides and a steady supply of water at
all times of the year. While in the woodlot, we heard the
low lonesome howl of a wolf, unmistakable and
a bit bone-chilling to those of us raised on the Brothers
Grimm. The fact is, I have been face-to-face with
a wolf twice since moving to the North Country; the first
time we startled each other in the woods and
each took off running as fast as we could in opposite
directions. The second encounter was in our own
east meadow; I saw her by the spring, and sat down to
watch. She looked up, and we sat still as statues
for about fifteen minutes in silent communion before she
rose and trotted away to the neighbor’s cornfield.
So after the initial shock of hearing that most primal of
howls, we set off in search of tracks. Not too far
from our woodlot we found a fresh pile of scat, clearly
dog/wolf in origin. We entered a different logging
road and skied effortlessly for a mile or so, and then
saw the unmistakable prints of a very large canine,
traveling solo. These were not the carefully trimmed paws
of a domestic dog; the long nails were clearly
visible in the soft snow. We got caught up in the beauty
of the day, the warm sun and blue sky, and only
occasionally thought about the wolf when we saw more
tracks. If it knew we were there, it stayed hid-
den. We saw all kinds of other tracks and scat,
everything except for bear, and it won’t be long
before
those big beasts awaken from their long winter naps. We
skied for nearly three hours, losing all track
of time in the beautiful backcountry of Tug Hill. It was
the ski that fuels our daydreams in mid-August,
when cutting wood or riding bike over the same terrain,
sweat-drenched and plagued by insects; to
have the personal memory of a crystal clear spring day
under the same sky in anticipation of such
a hot summer day... time really is a great big wheel that
passes the same signposts over and
over, marking the days but somehow not the years, keeping
us eternally young at heart,
even though it takes an increasing amount of sunscreen to
fill in the skin-creases.
Take the time to explore what is laid out at your feet;
all it takes is one step
to get you on your way to a lifetime of memorable
adventures.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, March 21, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
29 degrees, calm, sunny
Welcome to the first full day of spring ! Just to mess
with us,
Mother Nature never warmed up the scene for us yesterday,
with
a high of only twenty-eight. A bit of an icy wind kicked
in by the time
we took a walk at noon, and I was glad I had grabbed a
scarf to protect
my ears from the numbing blast. We walked to the Smith
Road snowmobile
trail, intending to trek a few miles along the firm
surface to see how much snow
remains in the woods, but it was too icy for the hiking
shoes I had chosen to wear;
they afforded no grip at all, and I could see that
falling was possible. While it is a neces-
sary skill, it is not my idea of fun to be constantly
adjusting my center of gravity for the sake
of remaining vertical. When the trail softens up today, I
think skiing will be awesome; hopefully
we have seen the last of this season’s snowmobiles.
From the little distance we went I could tell
that the forests and swamps of Gomer Hill are still 99%
covered with snowpack, even though the
valleys are mostly bare. Our meadows are less than one-third
thawed, and what wet spots have
opened are glossy with ice this morning. Deer have been
wandering out of the woods this past
week, gathering to paw at the exposed thatch in search of
rhizomes and anything else that looks
remotely edible. We sent a third raccoon packing, and
have been very careful to keep track of
our domestic pets since the coons have been gathering at
our farm. All manner of wild thing is
awakening from their winter torpor to seek food and a
comfy place to bear their young, it is
only natural. Likewise, it is only natural to defend your
own furry friends from wildlife that
may be carrying disease or other vermin, such as fleas,
lice, and intestinal parasites. Keep
a good eye on your pets this time of year; I hate to
think what one of those big raccoons
could do to a small dog or domestic cat. Porcupines and
skunks pose a real danger
as well, so it is not a bad idea to keep your dogs
leashed during this time of
transition between seasons. They count on us to keep them
safe.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, March 20, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
18 degrees, calm, sunny
In just a few minutes, the spring equinox will arrive,
making this
the first (partial) day of spring. Even though the ground
is frosty and
frozen, the yard is full of optimistic birds searching
through the winter’s
litter for breakfast. I haven’t seen any bluebirds
yet, but have cleared all of
the cached seeds and mouse fluff out of our nesting boxes.
We have to wait
for the ground to thaw before we can install some
mounted on posts by the
edge of the garden, but so far there are six snug homes
ready and waiting.
We walked up the Gomer Hill Road yesterday and saw all
kinds of birds,
the usual suspects on a fine spring day. Some of the
snowbanks have nearly
melted away, while others have shrunk to a more
manageable size. So far the
thaw has been gradual, with freshets and creeks running
swift but not overflow-
ing their banks. Even the broad Sugar River in
Talcottville is way below flood
stage; I haven’t been down as far as the Black, but
no roads have been closed.
Yet. A big flock of starlings is swooping around the east
meadow, backlit by the
rising sun, rendering their wings nearly transparent,
ethereal as a flight of angels.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Thursday, March 19, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
38 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Rain arrived in short little bursts for most of
yesterday,
and combined with a stiff southwest wind several muddy
patches
of hayfield have been revealed. The snow flurries that
had been forecast
never materialized, and it seems that the official spring
thaw has begun. We
saw a lone tom turkey strutting along the seep in the
eastern meadow yesterday,
and another in the distance of our neighbor’s old
cornfield. Starlings have been
carrying bits of dry grass for nest-building; that seems
a little too early in the
season to me. Raccoons have been on the move, and we have
relocated
two so far. We caught a big tomcat in the Havahart trap
last night; hope-
fully the trauma of being confined will keep him out of
our woodshed in the
future. He is scrappy, and our own cats haven’t made
him very welcome at all.
I will call the neighbors and see if he belongs to any of
them. If not, hopefully he is
just passing through; three cats is enough. Geese are
really on the move this morning;
the flocks get bigger every day. Most are common canada
geese, but occasionally
a few snow geese are mixed in with the rest. A dozen
robins are walking along
a bit of exposed garden soil, prying out whatever they
can find. It will be
a while before they begin their beautiful spring concerts;
for now, a
low lilting warble is all they can manage. The sky is
slowly
clearing, and it looks like a fine day is in the works.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, March 18, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
43, cloudy, windy, sprinkles
Rain has just started to spit and sputter over
Gomer Hill,
tiny drops that are barely more than mist. The wind is
gusting
a little fierce from the southwest; stepping outside is a
bit like being
attacked by a five-year-old with a garden hose set on the
finest spray.
It is worth a little foray outdoors just for the
multitude of sensations available
this morning. Birds are all a-twitter, backed up by the
soft gurgle of a roadside
ditch freshet, sweet balsam smoke is drawn earthward to
mix with the fresh smell
of mud and meltwater, and the cool rain against bare skin
is a nice flip side to the face-
numbing driven snow of two weeks ago. A robin has been
hanging around for two days;
we jokingly refer to the first robin of spring as my
little bird. Twenty years ago I found a
baby robin under a tree; it was barely feathered and
seemed to be all beak. I fed him with
tweezers every hour for a couple of days, and he grew
strong enough after about a week to
release into the apple copse by the springbox. I
continued to hand-feed him, and the sound of
metal tweezers rattling around in a plastic cup of
chopped chicken liver and fruit was enough to
bring him flying out from cover to perch on my arm. One
morning he was gone, and I gave it no
more thought. I hoped he had moved on, and not been taken
by a predator. The following spring,
long before the snow had even thought about melting in
our neighborhood, a single robin rested on
a chopping block in the back yard, looking up at the
house. On a whim, I took a plastic cup and
tweezers out to the back porch, and shook them to make a
little clatter. That bird flew right to
me, clearly the same one I had nurtured the year before.
Since then, the first robin to appear
in our still-snowy yard is my little bird, even if
that is now impossible. What is likely is that
the descendants of that very bird have imprinted on this
place, and raise broods of their own
every spring here on Gomer Hill. Besides the oodles of
birds cavorting outside on this windy
wet morn, there are winged critters galore indoors as
well; flies and ladybugs have aroused
from their winter torpor and are becoming downright pesky.
Yesterday’s laundry needed
a good shake to dislodge passengers before folding, and
big flies at night stupidly buzz
noisily around the bedside lamp, occasionally landing on
my nose, yuck. No matter
how many times I open the sash to shoo them out, there
seems to be a never-
ending supply of bugs this time of year. Soon they will
stay outside where
they belong, and we can polish the glass to let in a
clear view of spring.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Tuesday, March 17, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
40 degrees, breezy, sunny
Every time a new season shows itself, I think this
is my favorite time of year !
The transition from winter into spring is usually a
subtle and drawn-out process, full
of high points and setbacks; it is the air of expectant
uncertainty that intrigues me the most.
The trees around the property teem with birds this bright
morning, starlings vying with redwings
to see who can make the most joyful noise. A pair of
downy woodpeckers has stopped their drilling
long enough to pair up and court along the length of a
huge trunk, a strange slow dance that looks like
it may last for weeks. Talk about foreplay ! Mourning
doves have come and gone, dozens of the smoky
grey birds moving in a tight flock, and geese have been
heading north for several days now. Chickadees
cluster in the hedges and lilac tangle, and juncos strut
about as if they own the place. We saw a half dozen
robins plowing along a bit of thawed meadow yesterday,
keeping company with a few crows and starlings.
We went on a perfect ski tour in the morning, taking our
time through swamps and balsam meadows and
zipping down hayfield hills with glee. We found a fresh
deer leg, bone end gleaming pearly white with bright
red blood barely clotted and the hair still intact, just
the leg with no sign of any other mammal tracks or trail.
Right next to the limb were the wingprints of a large
bird, suggesting a dropped scavenged meal and botch-
ed retrieval. We kept an eye out for the kind of tracks
that would indicate a large predator was nearby,
something strong enough to rip the joint from the socket
as had been done, but saw no fresh marks
beyond those of smaller mammals and partridge. We are
savvy enough to leave the scene of any
fresh kill, even if we were pretty sure that it had been
dropped by a bird; it is best to assume no-
thing when living among predatory wild animals. The lower
leg bones were broken, so it may
have been one of the unfortunate deer that had been torn
apart by a vehicle. I have seen many
dead animals by the roadside lately, mostly skunks but
several deer as well. However, as we had
seen what were certainly cougar tracks a few days ago, we
skedaddled into open land so we wouldn’t
accidentally sneak up on anything. Folks at work are
talking about golf and getting their bicycles tuned
up, and are amazed that we still have such excellent
backcountry skiing in my neck of the woods. Now
there’s an idea ! Perhaps a bike ride today instead
of more skiing, a little cross-training to give our feet
a day off. We will see what develops, there are many
indoor jobs to catch up with that have taken
a back seat to the sun and blue sky these past few days.
Whatever is on your calendar, do get
outdoors for part of the day; this should be one of those
must-do activities, like brushing
your teeth or eating fruit, as much a part of your daily
routine as breathing.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, March 16, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
36 degrees, calm, sunny
Wow ! What a morning ! I stepped out into a yard
filled with the
sweet spring sound of redwing blackbirds greeting the
dawn. They
showed up late yesterday; we were returning from another
awesome
backcountry ski trek and the big maple tree by the barn
was filled with
black birds. I expected to see starlings, but was
pleasantly surprised to hear
that distinctive lilting burr of the redwing’s
spring song. They kept it up until sun-
down, and have returned this morning for a repeat
engagement. I know that we pro-
bably haven’t seen the last of snow and sleet for
this season, but with the redwing’s return
it is a definite sign that true spring is not far off. A
friend that lives in the valley had a yard full
of robins yesterday; I have yet to see one of these
official harbingers, but probably will on the
way to work later. Yesterday was warm and calm, so we
skied through the abandoned farm-
land of the old Evans property near here, a square mile
of forest, swamps, hayfields, and old
pastures that was 100% covered with corn snow atop a firm
deep base. Spring freshets are
beginning to flow, but they have not yet begun to erode
the snow-bridges that span their little
gullies. The frog pond is still frozen solid, but the
outlet runs clear with a trickle of sparkling
water. We wove in and out of thick copses, followed old
fence lines, and enjoyed the heck
out of being under the vast blue sky and warm sun of mid-March.
It could have been a shirt-
sleeve day, if only we had stopped gliding long enough to
remove our fleeces. We have two
more days to enjoy skiing, then a little rain will show
up, turning back to snow for the week-
end. I know some folks put their winter sports equipment
in storage at the first sign of spring,
but I believe you can wring the most enjoyment from both
seasons when seen from skis in
the wilds of Tug Hill. We will probably be skiing well
into April; after such a winter as we
have had, this snowpack won’t be going anywhere soon.
The important thing is to enjoy
the natural beauty of every day, even if it means walking
in the city during your lunch
hour and checking out the twitterpated squirrels and
robins in the municipal park.
You can find a bit of mother Nature’s perfection no
matter where you live.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Sunday, March 15, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
30 degrees, calm, sunny
The mud in the yard has re-frozen after a grand
thaw yesterday,
but will soon be chock full of gooey goodness after this
lovely late
winter sunshine bears down on it for a while. Yesterday
was breezy
and fairly warm, and sheets, towels, and tablecloths
brought indoors from
the clotheslines are stacked in the kitchen for a bit
before being put away; the
fresh outdoorsy scent that fills the whole house is cause
enough to make them part
of my decor for a day or two, a really big all-natural
air-freshener not for sale in any
store. We headed into the woods and swamps on both sides
of the Smith Road yester-
day after lunch, and the skiing was some of the best of
my whole life. The top inch of boiler-
plate had softened just enough to accept our weight, and
we didn’t encounter one single rotten
patch of snow anywhere, not even around the massive
blowdowns that lie hidden beneath the
surface, like big game traps concealed under palm fronds
in an old Jungle Jim episode. We
skied three different big loops, coincidentally forming
the lobes of a shamrock leaf if viewed
from above. It was our humble version of a Saint
Patrick’s Day parade, complete with water
bottles instead of Guinness stout. Swamps are still
frozen solid enough to allow easy access to
anywhere, and natural snow bridges were plentiful for
occasional creek crossings. Pussy willows
are in their full glory, and small spots of green are
showing up in the few patches of bare ground that
have been revealed by wind and rain. We came across the
tracks of a very big cat, unmistakable in their
shape, spacing, and way that the four toes were arranged.
The trail was fairly recent; judging by the small
amount of erosion due to sun, I would guess that the big
feline had passed through the area within twelve
hours, possibly during the previous night. For more
information about cougars and their tracks, visit
this site.
We also saw plenty of small animal signs, tracks, scat,
and cone-cores piled under trees.
We found three dead rodents, nestled in individual thawed
circles of snow, intact and mysterious
in their demise. There were two voles and a meadow
jumping mouse; I wonder if they had been
dropped by birds? There were no tracks leading to or from
the bodies. We saw plenty of holes
in the snow, some from little rodents, a couple of exit
holes from ruffed grouse, and what was
likely a mink den entrance by the edge of one swamp. I
could write for hours about the in-
teresting and beautiful things we saw on yesterday’s
outing, but the truth is, I am itching
to get back out there today while the conditions are
still perfect. So, step away from
your computer, and go find some cool things in your own
neighborhood.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, March 14, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
31 degrees, breezy, sunny
We have a winning jewel of a morning underway, sunny and
almost
above freezing; soon the yard will be a muddy mess. No
matter how
much shale we have brought in over the years, the blue
clay soil of Tug
Hill always finds its way back up to the surface to make
the spring thaw a
bit interesting. It is time to bring out the broad planks
that we use for board-
walks this time of year, positioned so that we can miss
the worst of the goo. I
am optimistic that the linens hanging frozen on the
clothesline will eventually dry
in the gentle west breeze under this beautiful warm sun.
We had a good long walk
yesterday, and although the thermometer read twenty-six,
a cold northwest wind
blowing over woodland snowpack was very nippy. Meltwater
from last week’s
rain is still frozen pretty solid; even the ditches have
a thick coating of ice over
flowing water being pulled by gravity down towards the
valley. The roadside
banks have shrunk to a more manageable size; it will not
be much of a chal-
lenge to climb into the west meadow to ski later today.
Last weekend they
were twice as high, and a little tricky, rotten and
unpredictable, giving
way underfoot without warning. Who knows what we will
find out
there today; I hope the local bears are still napping.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, March 13, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
20 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Frost has formed on the only uninsulated window of
the porch,
but the strong late winter sun is quickly dispersing it,
melting the pretty
feathers from the edges inward. We are headed into a
beautiful day, with
the ambient temperature expected to barely rise above
freezing, but showcas-
ing such bright sunshine it will no doubt seem much
warmer by midday. We found
the forked stick that blew off of the clothesline
yesterday, snugly nestled in the thaw-hole
around the base of a tree. I think I will scout around
for a second stick to place on the line,
as an additional perch for birds. The yard was teeming
with visitors earlier, woodpeckers,
crows, house finches and grosbeaks. A single starling
made more racket than all of the
others put together, singing, whistling, and imitating
various large and small artillery, with
machine-gun rhythms. Now that the snow has frozen pretty
solid, deer have been moving
from the deep woods to the widening seeps and muddy
patches of our meadows. There are
very few snow-free places on Gomer Hill, but as the sun
becomes stronger the wet spots are
slowly becoming small vernal ponds. We passed by a bare
spot at the edge of a swamp that
showed the barest hint of greening, a big solid en-joy
and hopeful portent of spring. Finding
my trusty weather stick, hearing a single starling,
catching a little snippet of green... all seem
like such simple things, yet gladden my heart ineffably.
The old advice to take time to smell
the roses can easily be simplified to just plain take
time. No matter how full your days and
nights, there is always time to pause for the briefest
instant and appreciate the small blessings
that surround us every single day. Did you see the moon
last night? A fine way to end any busy
day is to simply look up at the vast vault of sky before
bedtime, and gather in a little touch of awe.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Thursday, March 12, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
16 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Although it is frosty outside, the sun is strong enough
to have roused
a bunch of big houseflies, and there are several buzzing
frantically at the
windowpanes, their fate sealed one way or the other. If
they were to escape,
they would quickly sink back into torpor and likely by
snatched up by a passing
bird. If they stay inside and make enough noise, they
will eventually meet the business
end of mister vacuum cleaner hose. It is a wise fly who
bides his time and sneaks outside
when the weather finally becomes warm. I noticed the
weather stick is gone from the old
clothesline, a victim to the amazing wind of yesterday
and last night. This forked stick blew
out of a tree and landed on the line many years ago, and
has served mainly as a handy perch
for songbirds. I had to hang it back up after one of last
week’s gusty days, and now there is
no sign of it; I’ll bet it skittered across the icy
yard and is somewhere not too far, perhaps
come to rest by the grape trellis or rose hedge. I
suppose I can always find a new one
if necessary, but that particular stick has such
interesting history. Sometimes it almost
seemed like bluebird pairs used it as a teeter-totter; it
was always a reliable perch
for tiny hummingbirds as well as the more sturdy mourning
doves. It won’t be
long before the birds of summer once again grace the view,
although on
a raw and breezy morning such as this it seems a bit
unlikely.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, March 11, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
37 degrees, breezy, rain, fog
Rain has been falling by the bucket and still there are
very few bare
patches in the snowcovered meadows of Gomer Hill. The
drainage corridor
below our springbox is a little wider than before the
rain, but everything else is
98% covered with firm dense snowpack. This rain only
serves to compact it even
more, and if we get snow for insulation, it will probably
stick around for many more
weeks. I think we can safely plan some great skiing for
this weekend, unless it freezes
into bulletproof boilerplate without a layer of snow on
which to glide. Yesterday, I saw
a few woodchucks between Turin and Boonville, and
wondered what they are going
to find to eat. I also saw a large flock of geese, but
they were flying south; maybe they
changed their minds about relocating to the North Country
this soon in the season. What
drives birds to migrate in the spring. Is it length of
day? I assumed it had something to do
with whether the ice was out of the northern lakes and
rivers, but how can they tell what
is happening in Upstate New York from their balmy winter
home in North Carolina ? I
get the fact that the warm spring sun on the window
frames lures flies and ladybugs out
of hiding in March, but why on earth (or from
earth, for that matter) would a wood-
chuck emerge from its long winter nap when all available
forage is still under many
feet of snow? Whatever the triggers, critters are on the
move and spring really
is just around the corner; remember that when the wind is
howling at fifty
mph and snow is beating against your windows later
tonight.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Tuesday, March 10, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
28 degrees, breezy, fog
A thin layer of new snow clinging to every surface
combines with
fog and a bit of frozen fog-frost to make for a very soft-looking
morning
out there. Every familiar feature is veiled and
mysterious, and the neighbor’s
house has simply disappeared. When I checked out the
scene up close and per-
sonal earlier, a medium-sized black bird was waiting for
me in one of the big yard
trees. I thought it might be the elusive redwing from
yesterday, but it was a single star-
ling who looked right at me and gave a low whistle,
construction-worker style. He then
imitated a barnyard hen, a bobolink, a truck backing up,
and ended with a spot-on impres-
sion of a small boy dragging a stick along a long picket
fence. I have really missed this kind
of starling extravaganza; it has been two years since we
had them in residence over the win-
ter months. The next time I checked the yard out, there
was a crow perched on the same
branch that the starling had been on; he gave a single
polite caw-f of greeting, then resumed
his silent watch. Rain and wind are in the picture for
the next two days and then we will have
a little reprise of wintry weather before Friday brings
the sun back for a weekend visit. We
have lost quite a bit of snow the past few days, but bare
spots are rare and the woods are
still deeply buried. The meadows of the lower roads are
filled with shallow ponds, and I
saw three flocks of geese on my way home from work last
night, circling low looking
for a night’s lodging. I guess they are all heading
north, although they will probably be
re-thinking the move by tomorrow night when it’s
snowing sideways with a subzero
windchill. Thank goodness we humans have a snug place to
ride out such weather.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, March 9, 2009, 10:00 a.m.
36 degrees, breezy, rain/snow/rain
We have had a couple of interesting days, both
weatherwise and with
regard to various outdoor adventures. We seem to be
transitioning back
into winter this morning, with hard rain morphing into
wet snow now and then.
Let’s back up to Saturday for a bit, which started
off cloudy but warm; the sun
gradually came out of hiding and brightened
everyone’s day. We had a large group
here for lunch and a ski outing; the forecast had
originally been for a rainy day and we
were ready for anything; the sun was a nice surprise.
When we headed out into the meadow
in the early afternoon, the snow was very soft and
friendly for less experienced skiers. The downhill
glides were a little slower than usual, and the grip was
very good on the climbs. Snow was deep enough
that crossing fences was not a problem, and when we got
the track we had set last week the going was
pretty good. The snow bridge at the creek crossing was
still solid, and even after fourteen women slid
over to the other bank there was no sign of collapse.
Further downstream, the water was running high
and swift, undercutting the steep snowclad cliffs and
transporting big flat slabs of ice towards the Black
River. We skied for nearly four hours, and just as the
last of us were zipping down the vast slope of old
hayfield by the edge of the pine plantation, big fat
raindrops were splatting against my glasses and my
hair was streaming with water. It was somewhat of a
miracle that the rain held out as long as it did,
and by the time we were toasting our toes by the fire and
each other with frosty beverages, the sky
had opened up and a deluge descended. It rained hard all
night long, and fog rolled in. Sunday morn-
ing the mist lifted, and by noon the sun appeared
accompanied by big soft clouds. We headed out after
lunch once again, just two of us, and hoped that the snow
was firm enough to support the dogs so they
could romp in the meadows with us. Unfortunately, they
were sinking in with every step, so we left them
behind. We set off up the snowmobile trail and headed
into the woods at the first opportunity, aimed for
the pussy willow copse at the edge of some old farmland.
The little fuzzy catkins are just beginning to
open up by the numbers, and we cut a few sprigs to bring
back to festoon the windowsills. We took
a roundabout route back to the house, going through some
swamps and new spruce growth, and as
the day lengthened the snow became increasingly
unpredictable. We would glide along for a dozen
effortless strides, and then the bottom would drop out
from underfoot; one ski or the other (and
often, both) would be stuck, surrounded by slushy rotten
snow. We skied with great care, using
every inch of our core muscles to stay vertical on an
ever-shifting surface. By the time we reach-
ed the snowmobile trail, we were happy to zip along on
that firm bed of corn crystals, and walk-
ed the last little bit on the soft mud of the Smith Road.
It was wonderful to have that extra hour
of daylight yesterday, and once again, we returned before
any rain started up again. When I put
the dogs out before bedtime, there was an enormous flock
of geese circling our house, flying low
and honking as loud as I have ever heard them. I’ll
bet they spent the night at the little pond on
the Evans Road, which has scarcely thawed. This morning I
could swear I heard a couple of
redwing blackbirds in the distance, but it may have been
wishful thinking. It won’t be
long before they fill the big trees in the yard with
their joyful ode to spring.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The air was soft, the ground still cold.
In the dull pasture where I strolled
Was something I could not believe.
Dead grass appeared to slide and heave,
Though still too frozen-flat to stir,
And rocks to twitch, and all to blur.
What was this rippling of the land?
Was matter getting out of hand
And making free with natural law?
I stopped and blinked, and then I saw
A fact as eerie as a dream,
There was a subtle flood of steam
Moving upon the face of things.
It came from standing pools and springs
And what of snow was still around;
It came of winter's giving ground
So that the freeze was coming out,
As when a set mind, blessed by doubt,
Relaxes into mother-wit.
Flowers, I said, will come of it.
Richard Wilbur
Saturday, March 7, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
35 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
I stepped outside for a little while earlier, and
expected to hear the
first redwing blackbirds of the season, it’s that
spring-y. No blackbirds
in sight, but there was a pileated woodpecker working in
the big maple tree
by the yard. It seems warmer than 35 degrees, probably
because there is a very
gentle breeze from the south now and then, blowing warm
moist air across the snow-
banks, creating tropical overtones to the general
ambience. The town crew came up
with the big front-end loader yesterday and pushed our
snowbanks back beyond the
ditches, in anticipation of rain later today. I hope the
rain holds off, as we have a large
ski outing planned, with folks arriving from all over New
York and Vermont to ski
the beautiful forest trails of Tug Hill. Although, it
will be so warm today that even
a little rain couldn’t possibly dampen our spirits.
Whatever you do today,
look for little signs of spring along the way.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, March 6, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
34 degrees, windy, cloudy
A little drizzle of rain froze onto the vehicles
overnight, and the yard
was a little slippery before dawn, but now things are
drippy with melting.
The fine mist that appeared with first light has also
dissipated, and it looks
like this could be a pretty pleasant day of transition.
The wind is from the south,
moist and fragrant with the muddy whiff of spring.
Yesterday we skied crosslots to
the DEC trails at Carpenter Road, and conditions were
perfect. Tracks and other sign
of many animals and birds were all over the snow, and
several ruffed grouse took off at
our approach, rising in a noisy flurry of wings from a
perfectly straight line of prints. We
set out before lunch, and the snow was a bit crusty and
very fast; we used the trail we
had set last Sunday, so the hard work had already been
done. There was nothing left
but to enjoy the blue sky, sun, and ineffable beauty of a
March day in a Tug Hill forest.
As the sun rose higher, the snow tended to become a bit
sticky if we paused for long,
so we just kept on going, zipping around in a great loop,
hearts pounding and generating
amazing heat from the effort. It was one heck of a ski,
and I was sorry that it had to end
in time for me to get to my part-time job. I see that a
few grassy patches have opened up
in our yard, and roadside banks are grubby with the
accumulated sand and other road
grime of the past months. We north country folk call this
snirt, and it often has the
same characteristics of a more permanent geologic event,
like the Grand Canyon.
There are layered strata of ice, snow, and dirt, often
dripping with snirtcicles at
odd intervals. I like to imagine myself two inches tall,
and facing the roadside
wall as a climber would address any vertical climbing
challenge. To disap-
pear into the world of imagination for even a few minutes
a day can re-
move us from the daily stresses that come along with
modern life;
give it a try. See that spring freshet ? Could you be a
tiny rafter,
shooting the rolling class five rapids of such a swift
cascade ?
Imagine that,
Daisy
Thursday, March 5, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
32 degrees, breezy, sunny
What a perfect spring-like morning ! The sun has
really awakened the
flies that have been lurking all winter in the window
frames, and several
are buzzing in protest at being on what they perceive to
be the wrong side
of the window. I think if I let them out they would beg
for re-entry by sundown.
Today will be the jewel in this week’s crown, with
temperatures above the freezing
point and a balmy south breeze. The next few days bring a
chance of freezing rain and
rain, but the weekend doesn’t look like a washout by
any means. We have plans for
a long ski outing on Saturday, and hope that folks will
toss a waterproof outer layer
into their pack just in case. Skiing in the rain is most
enjoyable, when dressed for
it. We are off to check the route in a little while,
under the deep blue sky and
bright sun that is almost too beautiful to bear.
Sunscreen !
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, March 4, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
17 degrees, windy, mostly sunny, flurries
The sun shines right through the mass of snow
flurries that fills the air,
and they sparkle like the true crystals they are. A flock
of crows has arrived,
solid and black, a nice contrast to the ethereal beauty
of the amazing flying diamond
show. I can’t tear my eyes away... up close, the
flakes are flat and perfectly hexagonal,
nothing unusual except for the way they catch the light.
The wind has shifted around to the
west; yesterday’s gusty gale came directly from the
North Pole, and made any outdoor activity
uncomfortably cold. We tried to take the dog for a walk,
but he sat down and stubbornly refused
to go a step further than the edge of the yard. He is a
good old dog, and I respect his opinion, so
we headed into the barn for a session of chase-the-toy (which
was improvised from a scrap of
old tee-shirt from the ragbag) and that was the extent of
the day’s playtime. I tried to muster
some enthusiasm for a ski trek through the woodlot, but
my feet had a hard time warming
up and I know there will be days better suited for skiing
coming up soon. The weekend
looks positively wonderful, with temps climbing into the
forties and maybe even fifties
by Sunday. The snow should be spring-soft and zippy, and
we will be able to aim
our skis just about anywhere for some good adventures.
Stay tuned.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Tuesday, March 3, 2009, 8:45 a.m.
4 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
A stiff north breeze challenges even the strongest of
late winter sunbeams
to warm up the Hill on this bitter cold morn. Even with
both wood stoves all
fired up the indoor temperature is still a bit on the
chilly side; it is a rare event
for me to feel the need for thick wooly socks as I work
at the computer, even
in the winter. The spring equinox isn’t very far in
the future, arriving at 7:44 a.m.
March 20th this year, time for celebration all across the
board. It has been very
obvious, especially as I drive home from work late in the
afternoon, that we are
gaining daylight by leaps and bounds, as much as nearly
three minutes a day.
What comes as a total surprise to me is that this weekend
marks the date
for Daylight Savings Time to begin, Sunday at 2:00 a.m.
So get mentally
prepared for this; it will mean darker wake-up calls for
a while, but
wonderfully extended periods in which to work and play
outside.
It is also a good idea to replace the batteries in your
smoke
detectors twice a year when DST begins and ends,
easy dates to remember for this important chore.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, March 2, 2009, 8:15 a.m.
4 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy, flurries
It’s not merely cold, it is wicked windy as
well, with sharp gusts
arriving from the north; Jack Frost cuts right through to
the bone. A
few motes of snow zip past the window now and then, but
so far there
has been no new accumulation. Yesterday we had an awesome
long ski trek,
and we couldn’t have asked for better conditions. We
entered the woods through
a pine plantation at the old Slivka Road, just past the
Welsh Hill cemetery on Gomer
Hill Road. An inch of fresh snow atop many feet of frozen
compacted base meant that
we could go anywhere we wanted; however, we had a
particular destination in mind. We
hoped to find a place to cross Mill Creek so we could
hook into the state ski trails that origi-
nate at Carpenter Road. To see a map of these trails,
check out this site.
My sense of direction
was uncharacteristically good, and we soon arrived at the
wide spot in the stream where we have
frequently found good snow bridges. It looked very
different yesterday, as the alder shrubs that cover
the area were buried under deep snow; the only landmark I
recognized (besides the creek, of course)
was a stately huge larch tree, many-branched and knobby
with scars where once clusters of needle-
like leaves had clung. Because of Friday’s warm rain,
the water in the creek was high and only thinly
covered with ice. We found two places where snow still
lay deep across the alders, and were able
to gain the other side easily. In years past, there had
been a small tree that we had to duck under
as we climbed the bank towards the Mill Creek Trail, but
yesterday the tree was hidden under
the snowpack. When we reached the well traveled state ski
trail, gliding was fast and effortless.
We made the complete circuit of the Mill Creek and
Jack’s track loop, and saw many things of
interest. There were scads of snowshoe hare tracks that
appeared in groups; must be the season
that bunnies get all twitterpated (Remember Bambi?)
Coyote tracks were also in evidence, no
doubt following the hares. We saw sign of what at first
appeared to be a three-legged fisher, but
on closer inspection we saw that two of the paws had
neatly overlain each other, leaving the odd
prints. There were nearly as many squirrel trails as
rabbits, and the tiny marks left by lesser rodents
were also all over the place. The wind and rain had
shaped some very unique snow sculptures,
pillars, ridges, graceful mounds and sharp cornices, as
abstract and organic as anything Henry
Moore could have imagined. The sky was a rich blue, and
the bright March sun left shadows
sharp and dark across the whole scene. The snow had
softened up a bit for our return trek
through the pines, but the final downhill swoop was
wonderfully exhilarating, just fast enough.
For sure, yesterday’s outing will be well-remembered
long after the snow has melted
(which doesn’t look like it will be any time soon...)
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Sunday, March 1, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
24 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
Another frigid night is just a memory, as the
strengthening sun has
warmed things up rapidly this first day of March. Folks
to the southeast
of us will be seeing the lion-ish side of the month as a
strong storm system
pushes its way to the coast, leaving hail, rain, and snow
in its wake, depending
on your latitude. We walked yesterday, and noticed that
Horsie Creek has quite
a strong flow of water near the source, shimmering in the
chasm of its surrounding
tall snowbanks. I was not able to get out on skis as
planned; perhaps later today. I
imagine we will be able to go just about anywhere now
that the snow has compacted
into a strong firm mass. Birds are out in full force this
morning, more than I have seen
for the entire month of February. Crows, starlings,
chickadees, downy woodpeckers,
doves, juncos, and evening grosbeaks have all been
through the yard, with only the
crows lingering around the frozen watering hole by our
spring. Turkeys have been
scarce for the whole winter, and we haven’t seen any
of their distinctive tracks at
all since the first snowfall. It is time to begin
gathering supplies to plant a few gar-
den vegetables; we usually start our tomatoes and peppers
on Vermont’s Town
Meeting Day, which is this Tuesday. The latest date we
have planted these items
is Saint Patrick’s Day, so that gives us a good two
week window of opportu-
nity to get the seeds bedded down in the potting mix. The
first step will be
to bring in the growing medium from the barn, so it has a
chance to warm
up. Our seeds arrived last month, and we have only to
create a little
mess in the kitchen to be well on our way to this
year’s garden.
Big wheel keep on turnin’...
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
|
