~
Thursday, April 30, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
58 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
We are slowly warming up after a pre-dawn low of
thirty-three degrees;
I’ll bet there was frost in the valley. It is
pleasantly breezy out there, with a
shift in direction from southeast to southwest during the
past hour. This would
indicate a weather change, and I can see some purply-grey
high clouds to the west
that look like rain later. For now, there is wood to
unload and dogs towalk, while the
morning is still fine. We worked in the woods for several
hours yesterday, splitting some
big rounds that we never got to last fall. The morning
work was breezy, cool, and bug-free,
but after lunch the day had warmed up just enough to
bring out swarms of black flies, the first
I have seen this season. Fortunately, I had tucked my
jungle hat into my kit, and was able to finish
the work through a mask of silky mesh screening. The wood,
mostly cherry and poplar, split easily,
two very different woods but each beautiful in its own
way. Cherry is heavy and dense, rough-bark-
ed on the outside with beautiful warm tones of golden to
cordovan hued fibers in the wood, some-
times a bit stringy but lovely to behold. Poplar is much
lighter and easier to wrestle onto the splitter,
smooth as fresh bread dough on the outside and creamy
white when split, most sections falling neatly
away with just a touch of the blade. Cherry will burn all
night, while poplar is perfect for this time of
year when a fast hot blaze is good for taking the morning
chill off, like today. We don’t usually cut
poplar for fuel, but one had blown down last autumn, so
we will make good use of it. When we
had finished our tasks, I hiked the path to the edge of
the gorge beyond our woodlot, and saw
quite a bit of dirty snow lingering in the darkest
recesses of the chasm. The stream at the bottom
is high and clear, and beckoned to me, but it would have
been foolhardy to try to attempt that steep
scramble in my work boots. That is a trip better left to
more flexible trail shoes, with grippier soft soles;
steel-shanked vibram isn’t real good on slippery
roots and rocks. While rambling back to the house, I
gathered some yellow birch bark to use as tinder for
starting fires. While peeling sheets from a dead limb,
I uncovered a small red eft, a tiny salamander that will
eventually change into its adult form, a red-spotted
newt. He didn’t move much after I exposed him to the
light of day, so I got a good look at him before
continuing on my way. And now, off to enjoy the best part
of this fine day, before the rain moves in.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 29, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
37 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
Sunlight is filtered softly through some high thin clouds,
painting the green and yellow landscape with soft grey
shadows.
The wind is right out of the north, and boy-howdy is it
ever obvious
that it is bringing a bit of Arctic chill along for the
ride. On the bright side,
we plan to work in the woods today, so I am fairly
certain that flying insects
won’t be much of a problem. Yesterday was filled
with weather changes, starting
out as a wonderful warm late April morning filled with
the usual allure of spring. I
walked to the wild daffodils on the Evans Road with a
friend and our dogs, and it
was downright hot, nearly eighty degrees. The dogs
enjoyed a few good mud-
wallows and a swim in the ice pond to cool down; the heat
felt fine to us humans,
not oppressive at all, thanks to a good breeze. We found
the first trout lilies’ yel-
low nodding blooms, and saw a few cowslips fat buds ready
to burst open any
day now. After a late lunch, I popped out to get the mail,
and what a difference !
There was a fine cold mist in the air, and the
temperature had dropped into
the low fifties, all in the space of a couple of hours.
Our overnight low
was thirty-four degrees, and until the sun comes out, it
will take a
while to warm up out there. April is a fickle month, a
time of
delights and shocks, capricious and unpredictable. It
would
be a boring thing if every day was perfectly fair;
that’s
why I love the North Country, it is never boring.
Have an interesting day,
Daisy
Tuesday, April 28, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
72 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
It is a beautifully warm breezy morning, sunny and
fragrant with
the whiff of sweet grasses and daffodils. The forsythia
didn’t suffer
as much winter damage as we thought, and is blooming with
vibrant
yellow trumpets from the ground all the way to the tips
of the topmost
branches. Poplar trees sport tiny leaves in tight little
clusters, giving a froth
of green hue to much of the treeline. Poplar is a
steadfast tree, the first to leaf
out and the last to release its golden foliage in the
fall. They don’t grow too big
around here, being the first to shear off in a windstorm,
so I guess they try to cram
all of their active living into the time they have. Not a
bad plan. We weeded the as-
paragus patch, and it has a few early little spears just
breaching the surface. We must
put down some mulch soon to keep the bed weed-free for
the season. We put straw
on the rows of garlic last fall, and the sprouts are
nearly a foot tall, growing almost as
we watch after last week’s rain. lettuce, spinach,
and beets have shown themselves
to the sun; I am always amazed that such tiny seedlings
can become such lush per-
fect heads of lettuce in just a short time. Not many
people grow iceberg lettuce,
as there are so many varieties that contain more
nutrients and are easier to raise.
I grew up in the midwest, where the only salad served was
iceberg wedges
drenched with thousand island dressing; it is still a
real treat to sink my teeth
into the watery crisp tasteless pale green goodness that
is unlike any other
lettuce. The secret to growing perfect large tight heads
is to thin the plants
so that there is from twelve to eighteen inches of space
between them. We
eat the thinnings, which are much like any other leaf
lettuce, until all that
is left are a dozen perfect heads remaining in the row.
These will all
reach maturity within a few days of each other, so what
we can’t
eat (and we can eat a lot of lettuce, but not that
much) we sell or
give away to friends. How good would a BLT taste right
now ?
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, April 27, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
68 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
It is a fine spring morn, sunny and warm. We have been
watching
some amazing bird mating displays from the comfort of the
back porch.
A male grackles performs a dramatic slow dance with his
wings outstretched
as if to embrace the smaller female; he advances slowly
as she coyly takes a step
or two backwards. He circles her, head lowered and gazing
at her with those creepy
yellow eyes. He finally entirely covers her with his dark
feathered cape and lingers a
moment; we can only assume what goes on under there.
Bluebirds are much more
obvious, spiraling upwards and getting it on every two
seconds while flying, then
soaring to rest atop the nesting box before doing it all
over again, many times.
Tree swallows have similar moves to bluebirds, but it
looks like there is a little
more foreplay there, with pairs bowing to each other and
occasionally touching
beaks in a pointy little kiss. Turkeys, well, they are
persistent, and the males do love
to fight, but I guess amid all that posturing and loud
racket there is also some actual mating
happening. Robins have paired up as well, and although we
haven’t found any nests yet, we
see them flying around with strands of building materials
trailing from their bills. The land is
teeming with life and new beginnings, and the outlook
seems bright in spite of what is
happening elsewhere in the world. Tune out the national
news for a while and do
some eyewitness local reporting, good news only. You will
sleep better at night.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Sunday, April 26, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
50 degrees, breezy, overcast, fog
Rain swept the heat of the day right away, and I
would guess the
current humidity to be close to 100%. It isn’t
raining, but the ground is
so wet and fog so thick that I feel like I should take a
scuba tank outdoors
this morning. I don‘t know if yesterday’s high
of eighty-one was record-breaking
for our area, but I do know that it was windy enough so
that the heat wasn’t oppressive.
We walked for much of the afternoon, all around the
meadows, through the woods, and up
the road for quite a distance. Frogs and toads were in
full-throated mating mode, with a blend
of clacks, whistles, rattles, and the famous peep-peep-peep
of the frogs that are named after their
call, the spring peepers. This is one of the best signs
of spring, as they only start singing after the
weather has moderated away from the freezing cold of
winter. An odd thing happened as we
walked. It was late afternoon, and the whole area was
ringing with the sound of birds and frogs.
We were striding along at a good pace, when all of a
sudden, everything became quiet as an empty
church. The dog sat down and refused to budge, growling
deep in his throat. Clearly, there was some-
thing in the forest that had frightened everything into
hiding. A chill vibrated up my spine; I looked around
to see if anything was immediately threatening our safety,
but saw nothing. The stillness was absolute, with
only the sigh of the wind and soft creak of tall trees as
they swayed. I did my best to look like anything but
food, and cajoled the dog into moving on up the path with
me. Soon the peepers started up, first one,
then two, finally a whole chorus of frogsong filled the
air. Three ravens appeared out of nowhere,
and chuckled low as they passed overhead, as if to
reassure me that all was well. I’ll tell you
what; that was a bit spooky, but it won’t keep me
from hiking and biking the nooks and
crannies of Tug Hill. I figure whatever it was that
startled the other critters into silence
must have found me uninteresting, which is the best we
can hope for... that
danger will find us too ordinary to hassle. If we
don’t go looking
for trouble, perhaps trouble won’t come looking for
us.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, April 25, 2009, 8:15 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
The sky is mostly clear and blue, with big interesting
clouds hugging
the treeline to the west. These are the kind of clouds
that one can see
things in: look, there’s a sheep... a doggie... a
bunny... the last scene from
Les Miserables... A couple of thunderstorms swept
across the Hill late last
night, bringing rain showers and a very nice fireworks
show. The birdbath isn’t
overflowing, so I don’t think the rain amounted to
much. Now that the weather has
settled, it is time to put out the rain gauge for more
accurate measurement of daily precip-
itation. Today is shaping up to be even warmer than
yesterday’s high of sixty-nine (according
to our weather station). We were in Watertown for much of
the day; the thermometer on the bank
up there read seventy-five just after lunch, and it felt
downright balmy. Everywhere we drove, both
town and country, there were folks outdoors in their
shorts and skimpy tank tops working in the
yard, playing with their kids, or just hanging out
enjoying the day. We arrived back on Gomer
Hill in time to take a hike around some nearby meadows,
and found a bed of wild leeks al-
most ready to sample. They need another week before they
will be perfectly ready, but
they are a nice size for chopping into rice or mincing
into a pungent salad dressing.
The bulbs will be bigger after the tops begin to turn a
little purple at the base,
and that is when the whole veg can go into potato-leek
soup, hearty and
sporting little chunks of home-cured smoky bacon. I love
this time of year,
when we can begin to spice up our winter-storage staples
with fresh greens
like leeks, chives, dandelions, and dock. I pinched a
small sprig of peppermint
when I passed by the spring yesterday, the tiny sprout as
fresh as tomorrow.
Don’t you just love April ?
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, April 24, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
48 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
The breeze is coming slightly from the south, but mostly
west, and the
air is fresh and cool on this fine sunny morn. Birds of
all varieties are in full-tilt
mating mode, from foreplay to doing-the-deed, it is all
going on right in our back
yard. A whole messa turkeys has commandeered the lower
meadow and seems to
be using it as a combination fight club/brothel. Three
pairs of toms are duking it out
with great vigor, their puffed-out strutting giving way
to what could best be described
as cock-fighting, flying at each other spurs-first. This
is a silent battle, with not one gob-
ble being uttered, so far at least. Twenty hens stand
languidly by admiring the action,
choosing their suitors by some method not obvious to the
human eye. Occasionally
one tom will be ganged up on by the others and chased
right out of the flock; after
spending a few moments sulking, head down and shoulders
hunched buzzard-like,
he runs full-speed into the midst of the action to begin
the battle anew. Now and
then the toms will give up the fight for a short spell
and make a run for a hen or two,
giving new meaning to the term I’m hitting that.
There are more toms than usual this
spring; the usual flock has one tom for every ten hens,
and this looks more like a 1:3 ratio.
Perhaps that is why the fracas seems more intense than in
years past. Yesterday’s snow
flurry gave way to a misty wind-driven drizzle, with the
sun finally coming out to play
in the later afternoon, edging swift-moving clouds with
luminescent radiance. Sunset
was outstanding, leaving those big cloudbanks burning
with lambent fire long after the
sun disappeared behind the horizon. Today will be a warm
and summery, and we should
be able to enjoy some outdoor activities this morning
before heading to the city for
the remainder of the day. It will be nice to move freely
under the spring sunshine,
unencumbered by layers of warm clothing, boots, and wooly
hat.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Happy Arbor Day !
Help
plant a billion trees
Thursday, April 23, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
34 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy, snow
Dime-sized snowflakes are flung eastward by a stiff
breeze,
not amounting to much in the way of depth but certainly
setting a
mood for the morning. My first instinct is to try to
protect all of the
tender flower buds that are being battered about, but
deep down I know
that they will withstand more wintry threats than one
would think. After all,
this happens just about every year at the end of April;
we are lulled into think-
ing that spring has finally arrived to stay, and then WHAM!
Mother Nature gives
us a reminder of who is really in charge. Since
tomorrow’s forecast includes more
seasonable predictions, we will take this little flurry
at face value, hoping it is indeed
just a last bit of bluster from the powers-that-be to
remind us that we are all guests
here. Tread lightly, appreciate the many blessings, and
make your bed.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 22, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
46 degrees, windy, partly sunny
The western sky is deep purply-grey with stormy-looking
clouds,
giving the slanted morning sunshine that sharp edge of
intense brilliance
that makes everything appear slightly surreal. There is a
fine haze of fog sitting
over the valley, so it seems that we Hill folk are the
only ones in this zip code who
are enjoying this lovely gift of pure undiluted light
enhanced by looming clouds. We
have had some good rain showers during the past two days;
already the first green
shoots of garden weeds are thrusting up through rich dark
soil, for any conditions
that favor our best planting efforts will also bring on
the weeds. It has been nearly
a week since we planted lettuce, spinach, and beets, and
we should soon see
straight rows of sprouting greens marching between the
scatterings of chickweed
and pigweed. Daffodils unwrap their faces one by one, the
early varieties sporting
lemony yellow trumpets surrounded by creamy white collars.
Windflowers and squill
that drift across the green grass are the exact hue of
the male bluebird’s wingfeathers
as he pecks the sod for bugs in their midst. This has
been a perfect spring so far, with
all of the wonders unfolding gradually before our eyes.
Tropical temps that will arrive
with the weekend may force the rest of spring’s
wonders into full bloom in a matter
of a day or two, so enjoy this slow dance before the
tempo picks up.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Tuesday, April 21, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
42 degrees, breezy, cloudy, misty drizzle
The mist out there almost resembles sea-spray, lacking
only the salt tang
and whiff of low tide. There is fog past the tree line,
so with a little imagination
we could very well be perched on a bluff somewhere on the
coast of Maine; is that
a foghorn I hear? We have a very interesting week ahead
of us weatherwise. We may
see some snow tomorrow night, followed by a weekend of
sunshiny goodness, with highs
in the seventies; just another typical April here on Tug
Hill, I guess. Yesterday’s rain has really
greened up the valley; what a difference one day made!
The wind was as fierce as I have ever
seen, and it was hard to keep my car headed in a straight
line while motoring to Boonville yes-
terday. The road was littered with detritus blown from
trees, best to keep both eyes wide open
coming and going. While my workplace in town was being
battered by heavy rain showers, I
have reports that big fat snowflakes were assaulting our
place here for much of the afternoon.
It was a good night to tuck in with a bowl of mashed
potatoes for comfort; the main course
and other vegs were good too, but the spuds stole the
show on such a raw night, packing
all our nooks and crannies with golden earthy goodness,
warm and soporific. The sky
is brightening up a bit, almost as if the sun may pop out
for a brief appearance
before the rain returns. That would be a nice surprise !
Have a fine day,
Daisy
Monday, April 20, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
40 degrees, mostly cloudy, windy
Huge clouds cover the sky; the wind roars from the
south and is
infused with a level of dampness that makes forty degrees
seem nearly
intolerable. I am sure that I just need to add another
layer and a warm hat
if I plan to work outdoors before the rain arrives. I
plan to dig some dandelions
out of the asparagus bed, best done before the sweet
spears show themselves above
ground. Since the bed is buried a thick layer of old
sawdust, weeds should be fairly easy
to remove, even the deep-rooted ones. There may be time
for a short walk too, just to check
the progress of woodland wildflowers. Trout lily leaves
have emerged, so the flowers themselves
can’t be far behind. I’ll bet that spring
beauties show their waxy pink blossoms, but it is a four
mile
round trip hike (or bikeride) to get to them, and I just
don’t have that kind of time today. Large drifts
of fragrant double daffodils have naturalized in an
abandoned farm meadow at the end of the Evans
Road, poking up through dead grass and just beginning to
bloom. Our tame varieties are swollen
with promise; last night I brought some indoors to
decorate the windowsill and they have are
gradually opening to face the dim morning light. Tight
yellow forsythia buds will respond to
the next sunny day, but it looks like only the lower part
of the hedge will have flowers,
due to the biting cold winds that blasted everything
above the snowpack over
the winter months. We have a good chance of rain for the
next three days,
sorely needed to kick off the green goodness that lies in
wait.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, April 19, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
44 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
Sunrise was very colorful this morning, followed by
sheets of fog swooping across the Hill.
The mist was illuminated by bright sun, and shone with a
pervasive ethereal light that was
difficult to look at for long. I was struck by the
thought that we were witnessing the spirit
of winter leaving Tug Hill, a very real presence that has
simply given up for now, but will
be back before we know it. There is still a very real
possibility of a spring snow shower
or two (or three or four) but for the most part, Old Man
Winter has left the building,
and Maia is knocking at the door. We got a little bit of
rain yesterday, but need
more for spring plants to really green up and trees to
erupt into first foliage.
The upcoming week looks like it will supply the water we
require,
and the land will again be lush and verdant.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, April 18, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
48 degrees, windy, cloudy
It is a chilly damp morning, windy and promising
rain. There should be
enough time to take a long walk before the showers begin,
but I will tie my
microfiber jacket around my waist just in case. This
relatively new material is
a true miracle for outdoors lovers, being made with a
weave that is tight enough
to keep most rainwater from penetrating it, yet just
loose enough to allow adequate
venting of body heat and the sweat that can accompany it.
My jacket will compress
into a ball the size of an orange, and I tuck it into my
day pack no matter where I am
headed; it stops wind as well as rain, and I have even
been known to spread it on a
damp patch of grass as a makeshift seat for a snack break.
Yesterday we walked up
the Smith Road, and I guess I will now declare ski season
to be officially over. While
there are still too many stretches of compacted corn snow
to make bicycle travel very
easy, there are long spaces of squishy mud between the
areas of wintry buildup. I was
delighted to find the first coltsfoot flowers at the
roadside, small buttery yellow sunbursts
of color, in perfect contrast to the dun of the dirt. I
remarked, “Now that the coltsfoot
has bloomed, it won’t be long before the frogs begin
to sing!” As if on cue, an army
of frogs started up their rickety chuckle from a nearby
vernal pond. It is still a bit
early for the high-pitch of spring peepers to sound out
at dusk, but the daytime
croakers are certainly in full swing. To listen to a
variety of toad and frog calls,
visit these links naturesound.com/frogs
and leaps.ms/soundpage
. I could not
find the sound we heard yesterday on either page. For all
I know, it could
be toads rather than frogs, as both species will gather
around water to
breed. The signs of spring are picking up speed, and
after today’s
rain the season should be firmly under way, with trees
swelling
into first foliage and the emergence of more wildflowers.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, April 17, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
53 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
This may be the most perfect spring morning we
have seen so far this year.
It is warm and sunny, and the west breeze wafts the sweet
fragrance of balsam
and spruce buds from the forest to our yard. As far as
the eye can see there is a
fresh green tint to the fields and meadows of Gomer Hill
and the valley beyond. Blue-
birds pose prettily on posts and beanpoles before dashing
away with a bright flash of
cerulean, and the sunlight plays over the starlings and
grackles making them look any-
thing but plain black; they shine like an oil slick with
iridescent perfection. Yesterday
we planted some spinach, lettuce, and beets, watering
them in well, as the soil is quite
dry. All of the gardens have been rotary cultivated,
mixing in the rich manure, leaves, and
ashes that impart both critical nutrients and airy tilth
to the naturally heavy hill soil. We are
fortunate to have few stones on our property, and what we
turn up are a manageable size.
We had a place in Massachusetts years ago that had more
rocks that dirt, not only difficult
to work around, but also a natural habitat for woodchucks
and rabbits who ravaged our
gardens. There are some woodchucks up here, but their
burrows are easy to find and
their numbers are not legion. Deer seem to be the most
troublesome garden varmints
on Tug Hill, so when the greens sprout we will hang up
our noisemakers and sprinkle
hair clippings and stinky soap shavings as deterrents,
and whenever I see deer I
will point out the lush wild shoots of the meadows and
ask them to spare our
cultivated goodies; it can’t hurt. Never
underestimate the power of commun-
ication, even with wild critters. If they don’t
understand the language, at the
very least they may comprehend the intention behind our
simple requests.
Dr. Dolittle may have been on to something.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Thursday, April 16, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
44 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
This morning is as calm and serene as can be, with
all
of the North Country spring wonders gradually unfolding
before our eyes. Yesterday we found the first slender
shoots
of wild leeks poking up through the leaf litter in the
hedgerow;
it won’t be long before we are adding the pungent
little bulbs to
savory soups and casseroles. Pale blue windflowers add
their charm
to the crocuses already in bloom in the perennial borders,
and clusters
of deep purple myrtle buds will probably burst into
flower under today’s
warm sun. Two years ago we were just getting over a week
of snow
brought here by a nor’easter, and then headed right
into a week of
rain. So far this spring has been pretty darned wonderful,
progres-
sing in a slow and steady manner just like one would
expect.
I don’t want to get too complacent, as that might
tempt
Mother Nature into unleashing a surprise or two. Any-
thing is possible in April; I am very happy that so
far the possibilities have been absolutely lovely.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 15, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
46 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
Pale nacreous clouds streak the sky, filming over the
morning sun
now and then and taking away the glare. Shadows are soft,
and the
wind is absent for a change. Sounds carry from afar on
this still morn,
and we can even hear the bell that signals class
dismissal from the school
two miles away. There is a mix of turkey-gobbles and
partridge drumming
from birds hidden in the treeline, and traffic noises of
eighteen-wheelers high-
balling and garbage trucks backing-up drift aloft from
town. We have tilled a bit
of garden soil; I have onion sets to poke into the fresh
loose dirt, as well as spinach,
lettuce, carrots, and beets, none of which will be harmed
by chilly weather yet to
come. It will be good to get back out into the garden
after such a long time !
Have a fine day,
Daisy
Tuesday, April 14, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
40 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
It is a beautiful spring morning, filled with
sunshine and a gentle east breeze,
much nicer than the north wind that has plagued us this
past week. A whole
gang of turkeys is drifting along the edge of the east
meadow, with four toms
displaying their tailfeathers and offering up some love
songs to twenty-some hens.
This is the largest flock I have seen gathered together
in one place since last spring’s
courting season. The hens look bored, and the toms are so
puffed up they look to be
in danger of exploding. They seem to be taking turns with
the gobbling, and it has been
interesting to note the differences in styles, with
volume, complexity, and duration varying
from bird to bird. There are many birds on the scene on
this sunny morn, with grackles
behaving in a way that suggests there may be some
hatching going on. They built their
nest nearly a month ago, so it is possible that their
young have recently appeared.
They are wildly protective of their spruce tree, swooping
down and hissing loudly
at any trespassers, even me on my way to put water in the
birdbath. Our cats are
giving the tree a wide berth after being dive-bombed
repeatedly. There are five
adult grackles guarding the nest, and it has been
entertaining to watch their fierce
behavior the past two days. This is the only time of year
these beautiful black birds
hang around our yard; after the young fledge they
mysteriously disappear from our
view until next spring. There is much to admire on these
fresh April mornings,
so it is time to shut down the computer and get out into
the real world !
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, April 13, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
28 degrees, breezy, sunny
This morning is a winner so far, filled with
sunshine and oodles of birdsong,
that perfect time of year before black flies and
mosquitoes fill one’s private space
with their tiny pesky selves. There have been a few
skeeters who have come out of
the woodpile over the course of the past few months, but
a single bug is much easier to
bear than a whole swarm. We have a very dry week ahead;
perhaps this will cut down on
the amount of surface water where they like to breed. The
garden soil should be dry enough
to cultivate any day now, tilling in the leaves, manure,
and ashes that were spread last autumn.
I would like to sow a row of early greens this week,
lettuce and spinach and maybe even a few
beets. Yesterday I transplanted broccoli and basil into
cellpacks, and they are thriving in the sunny
windows of our enclosed porch, in spite of the fact that experts
claim that artificial light is a necessity
for starting plants indoors. I guess if I tried to grow
seedlings in December I might need a grow-light
or two, but this time of year there is plenty of natural
sun available at no cost. Yesterday we walked
around the meadows and scared up two turkeys who were
resting in the weeds. They went to all
the trouble of ponderously lifting off, launching their
heavy bodies aloft only to land on a nearby
low branch a mere five feet off the ground. When we drew
closer to that tree, they again took
to the air, touching down in the next meadow over. I
think they were both hens; they have not
yet begun to flock together for the spring mating rituals,
with two or three toms lording it over
a couple dozen hens. Closer to home, a pair of bluebirds
has claimed the nesting boxes near
the raspberry patch for themselves, placing a few dry
blades of grass inside as security, and
perching on the grape arbor to keep an eye on it until
they are ready to build their nest. Last
year, two broods of bluebirds were successfully raised in
this same box; perhaps it is the
very same pair, returning for another season. There seem
to be plenty of bluebirds in
our neighborhood this spring; I have seen them all along
the length of our road when
I am out walking, probably four or five different pairs.
It is the state bird of New
York, and I am surprised at how many of my acquaintances
have never seen
one. They prefer open country meadows to the tight yards
of homes in
town, so keep your eyes open whenever you roam out of
bounds;
who knows what beautiful things you might spy?
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Sunday, April 12, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
26 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
It is cold and windy for Easter, and if you don a
festive bonnet today
it had better have ear flaps. While Christians celebrate
the resurrection of
Jesus today, the very word Easter is derived from
the pagan goddess of fertility,
Eostre. Whatever your belief system, we can all
agree that signs of springtime and
renewal reveal themselves daily, even in the face of
frosty north winds. Yesterday I
bundled myself up and walked a few miles, through meadows
and along seasonal
roads that are beginning to lose some of their deep
winter snowpack. It was a very
cold and windy trek up Gomer Hill Road, but I was
prepared with hat and gloves to
go with my winter coat. As soon as we turned onto the
Mill Creek Road and got out of
the wind, it was warm enough to unzip my coat and tuck
the accessories into a pocket. We
almost reached the first bridge but the snow became very
deep and I was wearing sneakers,
so we turned around. The road itself has steep banks on
either side and is turning into somewhat
of a trace, more common in the south than in the North
Country. A true trace is a deep-cut path
worn by people and vehicles; I think the Mill Creek Road
has had some help from the town road
grader. After we climbed back onto the Gomer Hill Road,
we turned north and explored an old
foundation opposite the Welsh Hill Cemetery. The first
purple blossoms of myrtle peeked out
from beneath their glossy green leaves, a nice surprise.
Nearby, a pair of wood ducks were
paddling peacefully on a vernal pond, which has taken
over a big area of the pine plantation
where we so recently laid down ski tracks. I didn’t
see any frog eggs in the still clear water,
but it won’t be long before the night air is filled
with the sounds of twitterpated frogs get-
ting busy. There is still plenty of snow in the woods,
and I am sure that we could still
find enough on which to ski, but walking has been easy
and not too muddy. Today
is going to be another chilly one, but if dressed for the
weather it is always a great
idea to take a walk, no matter what. Get out and see what
wonders are spring-
ing up before your very eyes on this festive day of
rebirth and renewal.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, April 11, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
31 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
Clouds are high and thin and cover much of the sky,
so the
air is decidedly chilly, made more so by a steady north
breeze
on this otherwise beautiful spring morn. There are
thirteen deer in
the lower east meadow, munching happily on the first
green shoots of
the grasses and wildflowers that cover the area.
When we first moved here,
we replanted the fields to timothy and alfalfa, and made
a few bucks selling hay
to folks with horses. As our customers moved, sold their
horses, or passed away,
we let the meadows revert to a wilder and more natural
state, and now have a friend
mow them mid-summer to use as feed for his heifers. Some
of the first tender shoots to
appear are those of the dock family, rumex acetosa.
This is also referred to as garden
sorrel, not to be confused with wood sorrel, oxalis
acetosella. They look nothing alike,
the rumex arrow-shaped and the oxalis
resembling a shamrock. Both are edible greens
for humans as well as deer, tasting slightly lemony. The oxalis
should be consumed spar-
ingly, as the raw leaves contain oxalic acid, toxic in
large amounts. Yesterday, I noticed
the first tiny rumex shoots poking through the
well-trodden soil of the east meadow; in
another week there should be enough to gather as a
garnish for our rice dishes, and by
the end of the month we will be constructing salads and
quiches built around this tasty
foraged green. By then, wild leeks will also be in
abundance, and possibly the first
young fiddleheads as well. These are delicious dreams for
now, but if you are
reading this and live to the south of Turin, you may very
will have these spring
treats already in your own wild areas. Spring may often
be slow to arrive in
the North Country, but once it gets started, it can
progress into summer like
a runaway train. Every day reveals new wonders of growth
and renewal,
so keep your eyes open and discover the miracles for
yourself.
Have a grand day,
Daisy
Friday, April 10, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
42 degrees, breezy, sunny
I have just come back inside from a blissful half hour of
porch sitting,
drenched in warm sunshine and surrounded by sounds of
spring. The soft
tap-tap-tap of melting snow descending from the
roof and hitting the metal
compost barrels was the only evidence of man’s hand;
every other sound was
primal and fresh as during the pre-industrial era. Ruffed
grouse are drumming up
a storm, and a pair of downy woodpeckers complete the
percussion section as they
spiral up the poplar tree hunting for bugs. Grackles
raise quite a ruckus every time one
of the cats wander under the spruce tree where their nest
rests, a screeching and grating
cackle that in no way resembles birdsong. Far off I could
hear the intermittent challenge
of dueling tom turkeys, liquid and sweet as cool water
rippling over mossy rocks. Robins,
starlings, sparrows, doves, and bluebirds are in full-throated
communion, often blending
into a pleasing chorale, other times as grating as a John
Cage sketch. Just when I thought
it was too beautiful to bear, two of our cats curled up
at my bare feet and added their
contented purrrrrrrrr to the mix; could I help but
add a happy sigh of my own, and
a snippet of an ancient song that I had learned at my
Mother’s knee: This is the
day the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.
(Psalm 118:24).
Indeed, there is much to be glad of on this fine spring
morning !
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Thursday, April 9, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
37degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
It is wonderful to see sharp dark shadows on the
snow this fine morning,
created by a warm sun that should quickly dispense with
the white stuff so
we can get on with the business of spring. Yesterday was
windy and snowy
until late afternoon, when the sun burst free from the
heavy clouds and shone
through the storm, giving us a clear view of a nearly
full moon as it rose well be-
fore the sun was below the horizon. Tonight the full moon
will rise about a half hour
after sunset, at 8:12 for our latitude. This is known (among
other things) as the planting
moon, and indeed, if our gardens were not covered by snow
I would sow a row of greens,
and perhaps plant a few peas as well. As it is, I will be
transplanting basil, tomatoes, and pep-
pers into individual pots indoors today; the little
seedlings are displaying the beginnings of their
true leaves, a signal to move them out of the communal
flats and into bigger digs. I will also start
a flat of lettuce, to plant outdoors when the weather
finally calms down. The snow has already
started to melt in the flower beds behind the house,
revealing a row of crocuses that appear
too chilled to open up, standing stiff and straight as
soldiers. As the sun grows warmer, they
should respond with a cheerful display of color. All of
the snowdrops are buried in a drift,
but I have seen them come back unscathed from worse than
this. Before we moved to
the North Country, I thought that snowdrops were so named
because the white round-
ed blooms resembled drops of snow. It has long been clear
to me that the name
reflects the fact that, as soon as they bloom, it is
nearly certain that snow
will drop down on them shortly after. There is little to
no snow in
the valley, but once you climb onto Tug Hill, it’s a
whole
‘nother ball game. What an interesting place to live
!
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 8, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
28 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy, snow
It has been snowing pretty hard for twenty-four
hours, but there is
little to show for it, only about three inches with more
in drifts here and
there. High winds have cleared the yard for us, with no
need to remount the
plow on the truck. The town plows must be away for the
season as well, as the
grader came up to scrape the road earlier this morning. A
huge tribe of robins is
looking for food under the snow, and starlings float in
unison before briefly lighting
in the wet spots. I wonder if their feet get cold. A pair
of bluebirds is nestled in the
forsythia hedge, and have been there for quite a while,
probably waiting for this cur-
rent squall to pass through. Just before dark last night
an english sparrow was frantic-
ally running around the yard, seeming disoriented by the
storm, at loose ends, the only
bird around. Clouds are moving quickly from west to east,
and it looks like there are thin
spots where the sun might pop out before the day is over.
Today marks the Jewish event
of Birkat Ha Hamma (literally blessing of the sun),
which represents the occurrence of
the sun being at the same position as when the world was
created. This takes place only
once every twenty eight years, so I thought it was worth
mentioning here. This year it
occurs the day before Passover, which has happened only
twice in recorded history.
No matter which deity floats your boat, it is a good day
to appreciate the sun and
all it does for us; indeed, without the sun there would
be no life as we know it.
To read more about this go to this site. Even though it is
currently obscured by
clouds over Gomer Hill, I notice the sun daily, its
beautiful colors coming and
going, the way my windowsill plants lean towards it with
yearning for light, and
how it makes ordinary dust motes sparkle like jewels in
the radiance of its beams.
It warms us on the most frigid winter day as we play
outdoors; it’s heat lingers
over the dark nightscapes of mid-summer with soft
fragrant sighs of con-
tentment. Give a thought to the sun on this rare
commemorative day,
with a blessing that is appropriate to your own belief
system.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
Tuesday, April 7, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
28 degrees, overcast, windy, snow
If April showers bring may flowers, what do April
snowstorms bring?
The wind is howling and fine pellets of snow whisk past
the window, with
some significant accumulation predicted for today and
tonight, especially here
on Tug Hill. I have only myself to blame for this weather;
shame on me for clean-
ing my skis and boots and putting them away for the
season, a brazen cocksure move
on my part. The final taunt to Mother Nature was to get
my bicycle out of the back of the
barn and oil the gears, readying it for that first ride.
I have never put my winter sports equip-
ment away this early in the month, but it seemed likely
that skiing was done for the season.
How can the meadows be filled with songbirds rooting for
food one day, and the scene
be so windswept and void of all wildlife the next? Savvy
wild things have hunkered
down to ride out the storm, and so shall we. The
woodboxes are full, the home
fires are burning, and it is good to be warm and safe on
such a blustery day.
Tuck in,
Daisy
Monday, April 6, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
34 degrees, breezy, overcast, rain
Yesterday’s snow was devoured by wind and late day
sun,
which was a nice surprise. We were hiking when the sky
began
to show small miracles of blue, and by suppertime clouds
were scarce.
Sunset was vivid and all of the songbirds redoubled their
efforts to hook up
through song. The merry noise reminded me of being at a
cocktail party where
everyone starts talking louder to be heard over others
who have gotten caught
up in some exciting narrative, or made loquacious by
excessive drink. Soon
everyone is shouting to be heard, and no one voice can be
distinguished over
any other. It is amazing that birds can keep track of
each other’s courting songs
when they all seem to blend together in a chaotic
celebration of springtime giggety.
The individual arias are currently more clearly heard, as
many birds seem to have
stayed under cover on this cold rainy morn. A winter
storm watch has been is-
sued for tomorrow; we will wait and see what really
happens before getting
too concerned. Just in case, I think I will park my car
in the garage tonight.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, April 5, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
31 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
After the drama of yesterday’s blustery winter storm,
we only have
about two inches of new snow to show for it here on Gomer
Hill. There
was enough to send the plow and sander up here, but not
so much that we
will miss our snow tires. Yesterday was so wild and wooly
that I never set one
foot outside, other than to keep an eye on the dog as he
went about his necessary
business, and that could be accomplished from the shelter
of the woodshed. It was
a perfect day to watch the weather from the warm side of
the windows, content to
have the choice to do so. When the days are fine, there
is much to do outdoors, so
the inside jobs tend to get pushed aside. Now the
dustbunnies have been sucked
up and some of the windows have a fresh shine, woodboxes
are clean and full,
and the kitchen appliances gleam as they should. There is
satisfaction in house-
work, in any job well done in fact, be it cutting
firewood or cleaning grout.
It’s all good,
Daisy
Saturday, April 4, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
30 degrees, windy, overcast, snowing
The wind is fierce and slams snow into the windows
with such force
that it has stuck fast to all of the ones on the west
side of the house, totally
obscuring our view in that direction. Unbelievably, about
a hundred robins are
feeding in the back garden, seemingly unconcerned by this
wintry turn of events.
The wind picked up at bedtime, and the snow arrived just
before dawn. Yesterday
we enjoyed a lovely typical April morn, complete with sun
and zephyr breezes. Today
is also a typical April morn, raw and blindingly snowy.
We take what we can get here in the
North Country, and when the bluster departs we will be
all the more appreciative of idyllic spring
conditions. Yesterday we managed to get quite a bit of
sand gathered from the yard and dumped
across the road before rain moved in. The town
streetsweeper came by the day before, and now
our road is once again fairly pristine. I dug a few dozen
strawberry plants from the edge of the
bed for a friend who is coming to fetch them this morning;
boy, am I glad I planned ahead !
I sure wouldn’t want to be working in the garden
today. I am happy to have indoor work
to occupy my Saturday. Tomorrow looks like it will be
nicer outside, if still a bit cold.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Friday, April 3, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
55 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
Clouds are moving in, and with them, rain for later.
We had a good spell of sunshine earlier, and enjoyed our
coffee on the back porch, watching a tom turkey strut in
front of
his harem. He was probably making a lot of noise too, but
the southeast
wind is so stiff that its roar drowned out even the
robins singing in a tree merely
twenty feet away. What an odd conflux of seasons, sitting
bareheaded with my
hair tossed every which way in the brunt of such warm
moist wind with a big
mound of snow just inches away from my bare feet. We have
some sand
to shovel out of the front yard, deposited there by the
snowplow over
the past six months, and will try to get that done before
the rain
comes. It looks like it won’t be long, judging by
the way
the sky is filling with ominous dark clouds,
so adieu for now,
Daisy
Thursday, April 2, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
48 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Fog has lifted to reveal a definite tint of green to the
meadows,
almost more green than brown this morning. The buds are
swelling
at the ends of every maple twig, and I think that the sap
buckets and lines
will soon be removed from North Country sugarbushes.
Pussy willow catkins
are so fat and pale grey that some large stands of these
shrubs seem to be smolder-
ing, surrounded by soft smoke. It won’t be long
before the fuzzy nubs become long
graceful flowers, and then produce seeds, all before the
gardens have barely been til-
led. To view some very good photos of pussy willows at
all stages of their life cycle,
visit this link.
I have placed a few twigs in a little vase with snowdrops
and sprigs
of green myrtle, a fine spring bouquet for my windowsill.
We will have a day
filled with sunshine before the rain moves in for a
couple of days; I recom-
mend taking advantage of this fine weather to begin with
spring
cleanup, raking up traces of winter’s bluster and
freeing
the flower beds from their last vestiges of snow.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 1, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
42 degrees, windy, cloudy
The wind is strong but coming from the southeast, so it
is filled with
the soft moistness of Chesapeake Bay rather than the
frosty bite of Canada.
The meadows are filled with birds, mostly robins, and the
air is teeming with all
manner of blackbirds. A pair of bluebirds has staked out
one of the nesting boxes
by the back garden, and spend a lot of time perching on
last year’s beanpoles. No
matter where you locate your birdhouses, make sure to put
a post nearby if there
are no natural objects on which to perch; bluebirds
especially like to have a good
vantage point. Yesterday we hiked the perimeter of our
meadows, mostly to see if
wild leeks have poked their pointy little heads out of
the duff in the hedgerows. While
the grasses and legumes of the hayfields have started to
tint some areas a lovely spring
green, there was no sign of the pungent little leeks. The
hike was a juicy one; what ground
isn’t still covered with soft corn snow is spongy
with meltwater. We were surprised to see
that the garlic which was planted last October is well
emerged from its thick mulch of straw;
it looks like every single clove has sprouted. Last
summer’s stored garlic is still pretty solid,
but the cloves are imitating their outdoor cousins by
putting on a bit of a green sprout them-
selves. This can be a little bitter, so when using up the
last of 2008’s garlic, make sure
to pry out the green centers first, especially in dishes
that call for it raw. Even when
the bulbs begin to go south, they are still of use to
make deer-repellant spray.
It is almost that time of year, the gardens are mostly
bare... for now.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
|
