~
Thursday, March 31, 2005 8:00 a.m.
48 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
Today will be a hodge-podge of weather related events,
culminating in what may be
the first thunderstorm of the season. The clear skies
that bless our area this morning will
soon give way to showers that will whittle away the
wintry snowpack. Our meadows are
beginning to show a few small bare spots, brown and
squishy with meltwater. In the woods,
100% of the ground is still under snow, and the swamps
and marshes up here on Tug Hill
are still navigable on skis. If I kept to my old tracks,
gliding was very good yesterday. New
trails were hard to make, with the snow being so rotten
in spots that the bottom gave way
with no notice, and I would sink down a foot or so in mid-stride.
Small streams are running
swiftly enough to have opened up a few holes in their
snow bridges, and care must be taken
when choosing a spot to cross. Critter tracks are
everywhere, both large and small, and sev-
eral small flocks of geese were heard as they passed over
the forest. I saw many red squirrels
scampering from tree to tree, and one sat on a high
branch and scolded me, chattering away
in a furious tone. What huge bravado in such a little guy!
I headed home just at sunset; tall
trees were dark silhouettes against the warm glow of
twilight. Last night the eastern sky was
almost more beautiful than the west, with colors
saturating the high clouds over the Black
River Valley in a more subtle, all-pervasive manner than
the fiery beams of the actual sun
behind the horizon. Today’s sunrise was similar,
only reverse the directions. Our weather-
ed wood barn was bathed in pure orange light, and where
the sun had gone down merely
twelve hours before, encroaching clouds were pregnant
with warm hues absorbed from
the rising sun. I literally didn’t know where to
look, spinning slowly to take it all in.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, March 30, 2005 8:15 a.m.
44 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
I heard them well before I saw them this morning. The
clear melodic tune of the first
spring robins sliced through the morning air like a knife
through soft butter. I scanned
our few patches of open ground and saw nothing but mud.
Finally, I spied a half dozen
of the buff-breasted birds slowly walking, heads bowed
and pecking... on the snow !
What could they possibly find to eat on the grungy oil-soaked
trail left in our meadow
by trespassing snowmobilers? The trees are filled with
redwing blackbirds and starlings,
and their lusty songs blend perfectly with those of the
robins. Crows called in the distance,
and a perfect vee of geese flew high above, heading due
north just after the sun came up.
Several small flocks of geese kept pace with me as I
drove home from work last night,
backlit by a smoky rose twilight. There is still plenty
of snow up here on Tug Hill, and I
can’t wait to get out this afternoon in the
beautiful warm sunshine for a glide through all
of the secret places scattered about. It doesn’t
matter how many times I head into the
woods that are just up the road; there is always some new
experience just waiting to
reveal itself. You don’t need to live at the edge of
a wilderness to make little
discoveries every day, however. Just open all of your
senses as you go
about your day’s work, and take note of what’s
new.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, March 29, 2005 8:15 a.m.
31 degrees, windy, foggy
A stiff north wind has chased every sign of spring from
the yard. Birds must be
sheltering in the deep woods, huddled against this icy
blast from Canada. I believe
even the snow has stopped melting for a little while. As
soon as the temperature rises
above freezing, the combination of wind and fog should
pare down the snowpack in a
hurry. Our five-foot banks are beginning to look more
like sand dunes than snowy mounds.
Fortunately, this spring thaw has been gradual, with most
of the water going into the ground
for storage against summer’s dry spells. The
southern part of our state hasn’t been so lucky;
yesterdays hard local rains are taking all of their
snowmelt directly into streams and rivers,
with some local flooding where the banks can’t
contain the torrents. The sky will gradually
clear later today, but the wind will not shift direction
until tomorrow. Today’s outdoor
activities will be more comfortable if you remember to
add a windproof layer.
Don’t forget your sunscreen !
Daisy
~
Monday, March 28, 2005 8:00 a.m.
38 degrees, overcast, raining
Steady rain started to fall in the wee hours, not hard
enough to wash the sand from the road,
but too soggy for the yard birds to gather for their
usual tuneful early morning hubbub. Low-
land fog obscures all but the neighbors’ house,
merely a dim specter in the mist. All of the out-
door chores are done for a few days: ashes dumped,
firewood hauled, compostables secured
in their barrel, no possible reason to venture outside
until I must leave for work after lunch. So
why, then, did I put on my mudboots and waterproof gear
and take a little walk to the barn to
drink my coffee, seated in the open door with one of our
cats ? When I let the dog out into the
dampness earlier, a blast of muddy fragrances smacked me
like an open hand. It’s not even a
particularly pleasant aroma, but it is unique to a Gomer
Hill springtime, a combination of snow-
melt and salty road sand and yard mud with undertones of
earthwormy goodness and thawed
doggie dew. It is inescapable, all-pervasive, and as much
a part of my olfactory memories as a
wild rose at the beach or barbecued chicken on applewood
coals. The total experience of hot
black coffee, rain on a tin roof, a soft cat purring at
my feet, and the rich earthy miasmas of early
springtime make this one day unique among all others, a
combination of ingredients as yet untried
before this morning. Today’s rainy spell will give
way to sunshine and warmer temperatures
later on in the week. Should we bid farewell to winter?
It seems like it only just showed up.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, March 27, 2005 8:00 a.m.
35 degrees, calm, overcast
Signs of spring are everywhere on this fine morning, a
day where Christians all over
the world celebrate the season of rebirth and new
beginnings. Folks of every faith can
certainly appreciate the lengthening days and arrival of
springtime creatures, from the
tiniest ladybug at the window to the deer yarding up at
the forest’s edge. I heard a blue-
bird at first light, and saw his silhouette at the top of
a birch tree; by the time I went inside
for the field glasses, he was gone, but I am fairly
certain that my ears didn’t deceive me.
On the way home from work yesterday I saw a woodchuck
sitting atop a snowbank, blink-
ing as if in disbelief that there wasn’t a tasty
buffet of tender shoots and grasses laid out yet.
I skied all over Gomer Hill yesterday afternoon, ending
up at a point not too far from here
where two gorges come together, a lovely old-growth
promontory. Deer tracks were every-
where, deep ruts worn into the snowpack, and as I neared
the gorge the tracks of two big
dogs began to appear. Two ravens circled the air above,
and as I skied on I saw the attrac-
tion; a deer lay in pieces, a fairly fresh kill. Whether
dogs were responsible for her demise or
not, this was an old doe, a little grey showing around
the muzzle, thin as a twig. It is possible
that she died in her sleep of starvation or old age. At
any rate, may I remind all who dwell
on Tug Hill, year-round or seasonally, that it is
imperative your dogs be kept under control
at this time of year, when deer are already weakened by
winter’s hardships. We owe our
wild friends that... if not protection, at least freedom
from harassment. A clean kill with a
bow or rifle is vastly different from being chased down
by a dog, hamstrung, and left to
die slowly, in pain. Ah, serious words on an otherwise
happy day; if I waited for the
perfect moment to speak my mind, I would often be
rendered mute.
Have an optimistic day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, March 26, 2005 7:30 a.m.
35 degrees, calm, sunny
The sun is nice and warm this morning but the road is
still crunchy with ice crystals
underfoot. A pair of geese passed overhead, silent and
single-minded in their north-
ward direction. No matter how much snow remains on the
ground, Easter weekend
has always signaled the beginning of spring bird
migration in the north country. My blue-
bird nesting boxes are all cleaned out and ready for
inspection; any day now we should
see that first flash of blue wing and orange breast.
Yesterday we skied through one of the
extensive balsam swamps in the neighborhood and ended up
in a managed hardwood forest
with plenty of room to steer our skinny skis. Deer tracks
were everywhere, as well as those
of a big canine of some sort. We also saw many of the
pigeon-toed humanoid prints that told
us there were porcupines in the area. Sure enough,
naked balsam cone cobs littering the ground
under a massive tree directed our eyes upwards. A dark
form was nestled into a crook, and as
we rounded the tree we could make out the sweet face of a
young porcupine, black shoe-button
eyes glittering as he tracked our progress. We watched
him for a little while, and he never moved
a muscle. Finally he closed his eyes in dismissal,
willing us to go away with his indifference. We
followed a logging trail out to the road and crossed over
into an old apple orchard. When I ski
in this particular place during springtime, I can almost
taste the crispy sweet goodness of the
wild fruits that will be so abundant in a mere six months’
time. This spot, so easily navigated
on skis, will be an impossible tangle of berry canes, bee-filled
goldenrod, and twining virgin’s
bower vines, making the fruit taste even better for the
struggle of acquisition. Of course,
as I pick a few extra apples to fill my pack for a
suppertime pie, I recall the pleasures
of standing in the same spot with skis and a face
upturned to catch the warmth of the
early spring sun. It’s a sweet cycle, one that is
ever-changing yet remains the same.
Have a fruitful day,
Daisy
Friday, March 25, 2005 8:00 a.m.
32 degrees, breezy, overcast, flurries
The lightest skim-coat of snow barely covers the land
this morning.
Blackbirds sing as if it were the sunniest of days, and a
pileated woodpecker
has moved from our half-dead tree to the all-dead barn;
he is hammering away
on a century and a half of old grey boards under the
overhang of a bright tin roof.
I will have to have a little chat with this big old bird,
thank him for his diagnosis of
bugs in the building, but tell him surgery is not
indicated at this time, not by him at any
rate. I traveled south of here yesterday, and the Mohawk
River was full of geese float-
ing on the open water. The Utica Marsh is still snow-covered
and the only sign of life
there was a large hawk perched in a treetop near Route
twelve. I didn’t arrive home
until after dark, riding in comfort with the roof rolled
back under a nearly full moon.
The dog was happy to take a little moonlight stroll after
being cooped up all day,
and I only needed to shine my flashlight when an
occasional car approached.
We saw no other signs of life, but the sharp sudden
barking of a dog up the
road and pungent odor of a defensive skunk told an early
springtime tale of
woe. I honestly kind of like that smell, as long as I’m
not personally involved.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, March 24, 2005 7:00 a.m.
32 degrees, calm, cloudy
Clouds are moving across a bright pewter morning sky and
appear to be thinning
out in spots. Whatever this day offers, I will have to
enjoy most of it from my car
window, as I have appointments in the city. Perhaps it
will be a good day to open
the sunroof. Yesterday was a fine one, a little cloudy
and on the damp side, but ex-
cellent fast ski conditions. You know it is zippy
underfoot when every kick inspires
a good glide, even uphill. We traveled around some old
farmland, seeing lots of black-
birds in the distance but no mammals. Days-old dog tracks
were everywhere, as well
as some well-rotted rabbit and deer trails. The scrape of
corn snow under our skis kept
conversation to a minimum unless we were stopped dead in
our tracks, which we did
often to scan the treelines for signs of life. Earlier I
had seen seven geese making their
way northward, and a friend in the valley reported seeing
a male bluebird. All we saw
were blackbirds; I wonder if this is the same flock that
greets me each morning and
then takes off for the rest of the day? There is still
very little open water, and the small
ice pond remains frozen and snow-covered, with ice
thick enough to support the weight
of a snowmobile. I wonder if the driver realized s/he was
on a pond? We skied to one
of my favorite ancient maple trees, twisted into a giant
letter S by wind and weather.
One side of the massive trunk has split open, and the
interior has started the slow
process of decay. Our return trip was a little tricky, a
fast downhill run over fro-
zen snowmobile tracks laced with mud and weeds, a relief
to finally arrive at
the bottom, still vertical. Small pieces of blue sky are
beginning to pop
through the clouds, and the sun is brightening as the
moments tick by.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, March 23, 2005 8:30 a.m.
24 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
It looks like a dull morning from the inside, but when I
stepped out into
absolutely pure still air shortly after dawn and took in
the sights, sounds,
and smells of this early spring day, I remembered that it’s
almost always
nicer outside than it looks. There were birds absolutely
everywhere; I stop-
ped trying to sort them out by species and just wandered
around enjoying the
sound. It is still fairly chilly, so it’s not a warm
spell that has brought on their
awesome little concert. Perhaps the lengthening days have
awakened the urge
to burst into song. I could make out the mating call of
redwing blackbirds, but it
seems like everyone else was just lifting their beaks
skyward for the sheer joy of it.
I even heard the lunatic laughing call of a pileated
woodpecker drifting overfrom the
forest. Things have settled down some now, but just after
sunrise their music filled the
air. The sun came up after a beautiful colorful prelude
but soon disappeared into high
clouds. There is practically no wind, and there is no
predominant fragrance lingering
from man’s encroachment. For the past several months
the air above Tug Hill has often
been tainted with hints of exhaust fumes and smoke from
hundreds of chimneys and out-
door furnaces. This morning all I could smell was crisp
crystalline snow, refreshing as a
frosty glass of icewater or a Christmas day flurry. Take
a little walk sometime today;
don’t let the clouds keep you indoors.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, March 22, 2005 6:00 a.m.
25 degrees, windy, partly cloudy
The sky is exactly the same shade of peach as it was just
after sunset last night.
There was a rosy glow at the horizon and a pale lavender
evening sky with a
single fat salmon colored contrail, straight as an arrow
across the middle of the
sky. A few brighter neon exclamation points stabbed here
and there, but none
of those had the staying power of that one mighty stripe,
manmade by a pilot
who probably had no clue that his exhaust created such a
lovely display for
the earthbound. Remember as you go about your daily
tasks, you may
have more of an impact than you think on those in your
wake.
Ah! Here comes the sun!
Daisy
~
Monday, March 21, 2005 8:00 a.m.
35 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
I didn’t expect to awaken to such a beautiful
sunrise today. There wasn’t
too much of a pre-dawn show, but the sun came up from
behind steely grey
clouds with a burst of fiery colors, and now shines free
in a baby blue sky. A
pileated woodpecker is working on one of the big maple
trees in the yard, circling
around slowly looking for tasty grubs. This tree is
slowly dying on the northern side,
and as we remove dead limbs it makes the stately old girl
look even more lopsided
than the wind has already made it appear. The harsh
weather on Tug Hill sculpts un-
protected trees into wedge-shaped giants, often also
causing them to grow at an angle
away from the prevailing winds. Take a good look at
single trees standing alone in the
middle of a meadow in this neck of the woods, and notice
the asymmetry of form. Apple
trees in particular seem to be affected by the wind more
than other species, with trunks
often curving in two different directions as the
increased foliage that comes with age offers
more surface area to be molded. In a forest, the wind
becomes split into many paths that
won’t have as much effect on the shape of trees as
they stand together, making a living
barrier against the elements. Yesterday afternoon I skied
through slow slushy spring snow
to a stand of pussy willows; they are barely beginning to
show their fuzzy little faces. I cut
several clusters to bring home, and since they have been
placed into warm water they are
starting to open up. I explored the copse beyond the east
meadow and discovered a whole
mess of deer trails and fresh beds near a steep rocky
stream. Tracks of a big dog were
everywhere, and although I never saw it, those were the
freshest tracks in the neighbor-
hood. I scared up a partridge, which in turn scared me up
pretty good; it waited until I
was nearly on top of it before exploding skyward in a
loud whirr of wings. As I started
home, frozen raindrops started to pummel me, hitting the
cordura surface of my backpack
with a tiny clicking sound. Just that little bit of ice
made the snow twice as fast, and the
trip home was effortless and speedy. I hope to get out a
little before work today;
this is the first full day of spring, and a fine day it
is indeed !
Have a beautiful day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, March 20, 2005 8:30 a.m.
33 degrees, breezy, overcast
Cloud cover is thin on this first day of spring, and
there are faint shadows
stretched out alongside of each tree. At 7:33 this
morning our vernal equinox
was at its apex, so naturally I balanced a raw egg on its
fat end, as I have done
at nearly every equinox for many years now. For an
interesting article on this phe-
nomenon, check out The Clark Foundation Website. And,
contrary to what the
article says, yes, I have tried to balance an egg at
other times of the year, and can
only do so at the equinox. Perhaps it is my own balance
that is the variable in this
little experiment. What I have found is that a fresh egg
stands alone better than a
stale one, and a large egg is easier to balance than a
small one. Any size egg requires
a steady hand and an immovable hard surface, such as a
kitchen countertop. And
today I discovered that the concentration required to do
the job right allows several
blueberry pancakes to turn to charcoal, and the shrill
whine of a smoke alarm really
stops the whole process cold. Give this a try today;
sometimes you have to try sev-
eral different eggs before you can find one that will
stand up for itself. Hmmm, lots
of possibility for analogy here, make up one your own
self; I’m off to enjoy
the forest while the fine weather still beckons.
Happy spring !
Daisy
~
Saturday, March 19, 2005 6:30 a.m.
22 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
It is a splendid morn, all sparkling snowfields and blue
skies. The big tree in the yard is
filled with birds; at first glance I thought them to be
all starlings, but then the merry spring
stay-and-plaaaaaaaay call of the redwing blackbird
rang out clear and true from several
throats. Crows surround the farm, boisterous in the first
light of day, flying very close to the
porch windows as they peer in to greet us. It will be an
awesome day for just about any out-
door activity. Yesterday we skied the state trails at
Carpenter Road, and found a variety of
conditions from soft to icy, especially as the mercury
dropped at the end of the day. Down-
hill runs were zippy and climbs a little tricky, but the
sun was out and the breeze was gentle,
which more than made up for our lack of style. The woods
were full of animal signs, more
tracks than I have ever seen in any one area. Just about
every Tug Hill mammal was repre-
sented except for bear, and many of the tracks were brand
new. We saw the soft round
prints of a bobcat treading so lightly that it didn’t
even break the icy surface below the thin
powder. Small squirrel tracks were everywhere, and the
rambling tracks of fox and coyote
crossed our trail several times. Snowshoe hares left
abundant evidence of their passing, and
day-old beaver runs were everywhere around the pond, the
dragging tail leaving a sure
marker. We saw a few troughs on hillsides that could have
been made by a sliding river
otter, as well as their distinctive five-toed pawprints
close to the beaver pond. Partridge
had left their prints and scat throughout the forest, and
of course we saw our share of
deer tracks too. I am not surprised that we saw only
tracks, as our hearty laughter
and whoops of joy preceded us down the trails. What a
fine outing !
Get out and play,
Daisy
~
Friday, March 18, 2005 8:00 a.m.
33 degrees, calm, sunny
A thin dusting of snow covers the ice in the yard,
lending just enough traction but really
only giving the appearance of safe footing. One heavy
careless step and it’s arms and
legs akimbo, an out-of-control skid with a save at the
end, forcing a gentler stride and
more mindfulness than before. All was slush or bare
ground in yesterday afternoon’s
bright sunshine, but as the temperature dropped into
single digits last night everything
is set up hard as a rock. Perhaps the sap will finally
start to flow with the advent of
warmer days. Lewis County Maple Weekend starts tomorrow,
and the industry is
at least two weeks behind schedule due to the weather. I
may put in just one spile,
just for access to the sweet sap, careful not to drink
too much due to its slightly ca-
thartic properties. When the kids were little we had six
or seven buckets hung and
made a gallon or two of syrup every year for weekend
pancake feeds. Yum !
Have a sweet day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, March 17, 2005 6:30 a.m.
12 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
It is cold in the house this morning, a mere 58 degrees.
It was toasty
warm at bedtime, so I only added one big chunk of wood to
the stove,
and of course there was nothing left but a few coals on
the grates this morning.
Unaware that the mercury was going to plummet, I was
blissfully dreaming through-
out the chilly night, bundled up in layers of flannel and
big puffy comforters. (Probably
that’s why they are called comforters.) The
fire rekindled quickly and its warmth is
beginning to spread; sunshine slanting through the
windows warms me as I write this.
Some clouds are beginning to close in, a nice contrast to
a pale blue sky. Yesterday
was a gem of a day, sunny but very windy until I entered
the woods where all was
protected. I could hear the breeze soughing through the
evergreens, but not a breath
of air touched my face. Two ravens followed me around for
a while, mumbling be-
tween themselves as they flew before flying off to the
north. A dozen or more crows
passed noisily though but didn’t stop for even a
second. Blue jays were briefly heard
but never seen, and two chickadees flew from sapling to
sapling, keeping track of my
progress. Snow was a little sticky in sunny spots, but
zippy in the shade. I intended
to go to an old meadow a few miles away to search for
pussy willows, but in the end
just wandered around the area by the gorge, enjoying the
many beauties of the day.
Sometimes it's all about the journey and not the
destination.
Top o’ the morning to ye,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, March 16, 2005 7:30 a.m.
28 degrees, windy, sunny
I couldn’t believe my ears this morning when I heard
the beautiful liquid warble
of a robin coming from a branch high in the maple tree by
the barn! Closer inspection
through field glasses revealed that it was a starling,
doing a perfect imitation of a robin.
Ha, ha, made me look! This lone bird was soon joined by
his buddies, all of whom burst
into beautiful song, some sounding like robins as well.
Does this mean there have been robins
nearby for them to mimic? Or have they just pushed the play
button and are reproducing mel-
odies from last spring? Whatever, they are in fine form
this morning. Several chickadees are
lined up on the clothesline outside the window, feathers
ruffling a bit in the stiff breeze. If the
sun sits on the snow long enough today, the texture will
go beyond the sticky gluey oatmeal
stage and pass into wet snow crystals that provide
optimum glide for a back-country skier.
For now, a short walk along the plowed road will take
care of my yearning to be outdoors
on such a fine morning. I love Wednesdays, a day with no
jobs or obligations beyond
what I create here at home. On a day such as this, often
the best plan is for no
plan at all, see what the day brings and run with it.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, March 15, 2005 8:00 a.m.
27 degrees, breezy, sunny
The anticipated warmth of a fine sunny morning is
somewhat tempered by a pretty
stiff breeze, gathering coldwaves as it travels across
snowbanks. However, flies and
ladybugs are already lively in the sunporch windows,
buzzing to be let outside, just
begging to be sucked into the vacuum cleaner. A few of
our insulated panes are begin-
ning to collect insects as well, and when I opened an
upstairs window to let in yesterday’s
fresh noontime air, dozens of stunned ladybugs fell from
the sash to the sill and began to
sluggishly wave their little legs. It was a perfect
day to ski, so I took a trip across the road
to check out the scene before leaving for work. Meadow
snow has been windpacked and
the gliding was good until I entered the forest, where
the snow was deep and heavy with
moisture. I followed Horsey Creek down to where it enters
the big gorge, amazed that I
didn’t see one single animal sign for most of the
journey. A few bluejays chimed a greeting
as they flew high above, but I wasn’t able to spot
them. As I drew closer to the gorge, deer
tracks crossed my path, and several deer beds were
clustered at the very edge of the gulf,
with a few perched on an outcropping thirty feet down the
steep side. Trails ran up one side
and down the other to the stream, a perilous and tricky
path that is hard enough on bare
ground with vibram-soled trail shoes. I’m guessing
the deer are hanging out near the only
open water in the area, yarding up for warmth and not
venturing too close to the busy snow-
mobile trails at the edge of the woods. The only other
tracks I saw belong to a neighbor’s
beagle, a cute little dog that one day will just keep on
running the wrong direction. Take
care of your pets, even if it means tying them up to keep
them safe outdoors. I’m off
to take my little friend for a walk on this fine morning,
secure on a retractable
leash, safe from traffic, big dogs, and porcupines.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, March 14, 2005 7:30 a.m.
24 degrees, calm, sunny
What a beauty of a morning! Strong sun on my bare head
belied the fact of crunching
snow underneath my feet. I was caught between fire and
ice, scanning the horizons for
clouds or other signs of weather yet to come, comfy
enough sockless in clogs, my bare
arms poking out of a down vest, basking in the view. Not
a cloud in sight, but the valley
sits under a fine haze of smog, probably not even
noticeable from that vantage point. I fi-
nally got back on skis yesterday, and we had a fine trek
along the state trails at Carpenter
Road. Much of the trail had a couple of inches of new
snow, and sunny stretches were often
a bit sticky underfoot, but generally the gliding was
great. It was wonderful to be deep in the
woods again, checking out animal tracks and enjoying the
play of light and shadow on the
snowy forest floor. A deep blue sky was punctuated by
swiftly moving stark white clouds,
a never-ending stream of vapor that hardly ever fully
concealed the sun. When it did, the
hills flattened right out, and all perception of tilt was
gone. A quickening of the breath, pulse
pounding, “ah, we must be heading up a long gradual
hill,” then the sun reappeared and in-
deed, we would be atop a pretty good rise. Those trails
have a perfect arrangement of
ups and downs, and our climbs were always rewarded with
zippy little downhill runs,
effortless and fun. We got home in time to take a little
walk to enjoy a beautiful sunset,
the clouds still scuttling merrily across a peach of a
twilight sky. What a perfect day !
Enjoy this day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, March 13, 2005 8:30 a.m.
25 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
Light snow was falling earlier today, not enough to make
a difference but still it is
nice to have brown grit and windblown sand covered up.
Ah, as soon as those words
appeared on my monitor, the town truck came into view,
piling a mixture of snow, salt
and sand onto the bank at the edge of our yard. One of
the tradeoffs of safely navigating
a snowpacked hill is the vast quantities of sand that end
up on our lawn every spring, but
it is a fact that, without it’s aid to tire
traction, cars spin out and often don’t make it past
our driveway. Our road crew has been awesome this season,
and we have been able to
climb the steepest part of Lyman Road with ease, even in
the middle of the night. Here it
is, a wintry Sunday morning when many folks are lounging
away the morning in comfort
with a thick newspaper and hot beverage, and the town
road crew has already
been at work for many hours, keeping the roads safe for
all. Hats off to you,
thanks a bunch !
Daisy
~
Saturday, March 12, 2005 7:30 a.m.
15 degrees, calm, partly cloudy
A hidden sun nonetheless brightens the land; we can see
where it is behind pearly
flat clouds and the beams are almost strong enough to
cast shadows. A vast expanse
of blue sky is just out of reach, and I can’t really
tell if clouds are coming or going. Some
wispy mares’ tails are drifting slowly to the
northeast, but the massive dark bank to the west
is staying put, for the time being at least. Enough snow
fell yesterday to require some plow-
truck action this morning, but only a dusting is expected
for the weekend. It seemed to snow
pretty much all day long, big hexagonal flakes that
allowed themselves to be admired on a
fleecy sleeve before melting or blowing away. There was
an unbelievable amount of snow-
mobile traffic on the Hill yesterday, not one single
minute where their drone wasn’t in the air,
a familiar undertone to winter outdoor activities for the
last twenty years or so. When we
first arrived on Gomer Hill in the 1970s, dogsleds were
as common on unplowed roads as
snowmobiles. We could ski on back roads by moonlight and
not give a moment’s thought to
sharing the trail with anything but coyotes and deer. It
is good that so many people are able
to enjoy this beautiful area; I would like to imagine
that this is more than just a bar-to-bar
sport. I hope that there are family picnics, quiet
moments of appreciation at trailside with
the engines off, romantic interludes, successful first
dates, and even those riders who
might pack binoculars for viewing wildlife. Take some
time to enjoy the view.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, March 11, 2005 8:30 a.m.
18 degrees, calm, partly sunny, flurries
It is a bright morning with only about two inches of new
feathery snow
on the ground. Flurries are falling, sometimes many,
sometimes few. Yesterday’s
lake effect storm never fully materialized, although I
drove through two small areas
of dense snow on my way home from work just after dark.
The air was thick with
swirling flakes, visibility was terrible, and roads were
unplowed. However, as quickly
as the squalls surrounded me, they dispersed and I
emerged into a clear starry night.
There is snow in the forecast every day for the next week.
According to Punxsutawney
Phil, winter will be over in a week anyway, so we can
assume that right after this period
of snowy weather the temperature will soar into the
sixties and crocuses will be showing
their sunny little faces, right? Clearly Phil isn’t
from around here. Spring in the air, however,
for today I will start a few tomato seeds, three weeks
earlier than the rest, so I will have
some mature plants to set out at the end of May. New
plantings of windowsill herbs will
also get their start today, basil and parsley for
springtime green salads. Poinsettias will
give way to fragrant greenery, and soon the summery aroma
of tomato foliage will
permeate the kitchen. Little things like this lessen the
impact of cabin fever
that can set in at this time of year, small glimmers of
sunny barefoot days,
seedlings on the sill with a view of high snow banks
beyond.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, March 10, 2005 8:00 a.m.
14 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
A woodpecker drills a slow, steady tattoo into the big
tree by the barn on this
frosty morning. Seven blackbirds seem not to notice this
noisy visitor, as they are
making their own sweet racket. The sky is true blue, with
just a few clouds here
and there. It is breezy, but nothing like yesterdays
steady gale that created snow-
squalls out of thin air. The valley scene was relatively
calm, but Tug Hill was a
maelstrom of whirling snow all day long. We are expecting
some lake effect snow
later this afternoon, apparently coming out of nowhere.
But that is the nature of
the beast; moisture is picked up as a front passes over
Lake Ontario, often not
appearing on the radar until a significant amount of
precipitation has gathered.
The only major disturbance on the national NEXRAD map is
west of Lake
Michigan. That front would have to move faster than a
speeding locomotive
to arrive here by noon today. Keep your weather eye out,
and be ready
for just about anything; believe what you see, not what
you hear.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, March 9, 2005 8:00 a.m.
2 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
There are several large cumulus clouds randomly floating
in a milky blue sky on
this frigid morning. The wind is amazing, stealing the
breath right out of my mouth
in the few minutes I spent checking out the view while my
dog decided exactly how
many inches he had to move away from the back step for
decorum’s sake. His long
curly hair was ruffled backwards into a punk version of
natty dreds as he tried in vain
to turn his back to the wind, which seemed to be
everywhere at once. All of our black-
birds have flown the coop until the wind settles down. I
hope they have found somewhere
snug to tuck in for the day. Even though our home is well-insulated,
this fierce arctic wind
has managed to find a few small gaps and the floors are
icy cold and drafty. It is a day for
down-filled booties and a warm sweater, even with both
woodstoves blazing merrily away.
On a day such as this it is possible for a fire to rage
through a chimney that hasn’t been care-
fully tended. Make a trip onto the roof soon to drop that
burlap bagful of peastones down
the hole a few times, and take your stovepipes apart to
give them a good reaming out. It
is better to be a little uncomfortable on the rooftop for
a few minutes than to suffer the
devastation that a chimney fire can wreak on your home
and family. If you are unable
to do your own chimney maintenance chores, hire a
professional to come every
few weeks; what price can you put on your life ?
Have a comfy and safe day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, March 8, 2005 8:00 a.m.
6 degrees, breezy, overcast, snowing
After some seriously hard rain yesterday, all has finally
settled down into more
familiar winter weather for the area. Under this thin
layer of new snow is a thick
layer of ice, just waiting for a bit of inattention or a
single misstep, then wham-o !
an unsuspecting pedestrian is horizontal in the wink
of an eye. It might be a good
idea to don full skateboarder’s gear before heading
out into the yard. (Just kidding...
or am I ?) Take it easy today, move with care and
wear sensible shoes.
Watch your step,
Daisy
~
Monday, March 7, 2005 8:00 a.m.
29 degrees, breezy, foggy, flurries
It snowed all day yesterday; it is unclear how much
actually landed on the ground.
High winds pushed it into five foot drifts by the barn,
while scouring other parts of
the yard right down to bare shale. Towards the end of the
day hard little pellets of
ice were streaming by, plastering the windows with a
solid sheet of ragged glaze.
Now there are giant snowflakes flying in all directions,
nearly blending in with the
all-encompassing fog. Plowing the yard will be tricky
today, as the snow is heavy
and wet and already beginning to set up into cementy
hummocks that will test the
plowtruck’s power, as well as the determination of
the driver. But plow we must,
as rain is in the forecast for later today, and the water
needs someplace to flow.
Otherwise, a muffler-wrenching frozen mess will fill the
yard when the
temperature once again falls into single digits tomorrow
night.
Suit up, dig out, and take it easy with this heavy wet
stuff.
Don’t forget to stretch,
Daisy
~
Sunday, March 6, 2005 8:30 a.m.
24 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
As windy as it seems from indoors looking out, it isn’t
all that bad when dressed
properly. It isn’t very cold, and the wind is from
the southwest, no arctic edge in sight.
Yesterday was sunny and warm when I headed out for a
walk, but the breeze picked up
and, since I was hatless and not wearing a windproof
jacket, I quickly became uncom-
fortably windbitten and cut the trip short. I ventured
out again just before sunset, this time
clad for the weather; what an outstanding light show in
the western sky! Big dark clouds
showed neon pulsating edges as the sun moved closer to
the horizon, and whorls of fine
snow leapt skyward from high banks in a wispy dervish
dance, a tarantella of icy pellets
that occasionally collided with my bare face. Days are
getting longer by leaps and bounds
as we approach the spring equinox; today we will pick up
almost three minutes of daylight.
It is nice to be able to drive home from work in the
afterglow of a fine sunset, instead of
pitch black night as in the dead of winter. Today is
going to continue to be windy,
but not too cold; if you have outdoor plans, just
remember to suit up for them.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, March 5, 2005 8:00 a.m.
28 degrees, breezy, sunny
Wowza ! What a gorgeous morning ! Birds are all over the
place, with a huge flock
of chickadees peering at me through the window as I write
this. They are all in a row
on the clothesline, like birds in a shooting gallery.
Recent circumstances have kept me
off of skis for a little while, and I am itching to get
back into the woods soon. Walking
along the roadsides is pleasant, but to really see what
is going on around Tug Hill, one
needs to step off the beaten path and head into the wild
forests and swamps of the back-
country. If there are this many birds in my back yard,
the woods must be full of them
flitting from tree to tree, chirping, hooting, hissing
and warbling their late winter songs.
It won’t be long until mating season. Male bluebirds
usually show up towards the end
of March to scout out a proper home in which to raise a
brood or two. Sometime soon
we must make sure the nesting boxes are ready. My next
ski outing will be with a putty
knife and stiff brush, tools to lift out old nests and
whisk away fluffy detritus left by over-
wintering deermice. I love it that the boxes have become
four-season time-shares, home
to friends both furred and feathered. We are equal
opportunity landlords. All we ask
for rent is a double eyeful of beautiful sky-colored
plumage as bluebirds rear their young,
or a swoop of swallows as they eat hundreds of
mosquitoes, or the surprised look on
the face of a cute little grey mouse as we look in on him
on a beauty of a wintry day.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Friday, March 4, 2005 8:00 a.m.
11 degrees, breezy, overcast, snowing
The view was nearly cloud-free at first light, but it
didn’t take long
to fill in with dense grey clouds that heralded this gift
of lake effect snow.
It is snowing hard, blowing in straight from the west
with surprising intensity
for being such a small blip on the national radar. When
zoomed in to the local
map, however, I can see that the heaviest snow isn’t
even here yet. If it stalls
out as it hits the colder air of the Black River Valley,
we could have significant
accumulation from this storm. Or not; that is what is so
mysterious about lake
effect weather. One year we received 80 inches in one
storm, while five miles
to the north had virtually no snow at all. This
phenomenon is hard to explain to
people who have never been in this neck of the woods in
the winter before.
This has been a strange winter, seeming to arrive all at
once and two
months late. I will take whatever we get, whenever we get
it.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, March 3, 2005 8:30 a.m.
9 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
Yesterday’s flurries died away by noon with an
insignificant amount
of accumulation added to the piles. Strong winds have
sculpted fine ridges
and ripples in the meadows and created sloping drifts
along the banks by the
sides of the road. The sky is pale blue with big airy
clouds drifting along as they
please. The icy wind is tempered by strong March
sunshine, and if I stand in a
protected spot the sun wins my attention, hands down. I
noticed the same thing
yesterday as I walked for a while in the afternoon; the
sun reflecting from such
a large expanse of bright snow practically negated the
effects of the high winds.
My dog thought otherwise, and our walk was cut short
after he sat down like a
stubborn mule and refused to take another step. Good
thing he’s small enough to
carry; he rode home safely tucked into my fleece vest.
Years ago our 100 pound
doberman pinscher became exhausted while out skiing with
us, and he rode the last
mile of the journey (much of it uphill) in a fireman’s
carry on my husband’s shoulders.
That dog was definitely not small enough to carry.
Whatever the weather, remember
that your doggie friends need a little fun time, indoors
or out. Throw a toy,
teach them a trick, roll around with them and give them a
good scritch.
Have a doggone good day,
Daisy
Wednesday, March 2, 2005 8:00 a.m.
15 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy, flurries
Light snow is falling, remnants of yesterday’s late
winter offering of about
twelve inches of powder. A small band of lake effect snow
is moving into our
area from the northwest, and winds are expected to pick
up as this storm gathers
speed. Visibility may be impaired, especially if the snow
from yesterday becomes
airborne. A large flock of crows is moving around in the
treeline, silent but very active.
I saw about a hundred crows not too far from here the
other day, which is a large amount
of birds to see up here in the winter. Cities to the
south of here have been vigilant in driving
crows from their area, fearful of the West Nile virus
that the birds may carry. I wonder if
the increase in the North Country crow population is a
direct result of their displacement
from Utica and Rome? I like crows, but I can understand
that having a hundred of them
roosting above your urban parking space might be a bit of
a housekeeping problem. Up
here on Tug Hill we have millions of acres of forest and
meadow for them to roam, and in
my opinion, they are better off away from they hustle,
bustle, and exhaust fumes above a
busy city. I love their loud unruly voices as they call
back and forth to each other in the wee
hours of the morning. I love to follow them as they move
from meadow to meadow, easier
done on skis in the winter than on foot or bike in the
bare-ground months. Crows have led
me to some amazing places, bosky swamps and faerie glades
that would be easily passed
by, had they not stopped me in my tracks and proclaimed
loudly look! look! look and see!
However you get to where you are going, take an extra
moment to look, really look
and see what is around you. Chances are, there will be a
surprise or two.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Tuesday, March 1, 2005 8:30 a.m.
20 degrees, calm, overcast, snowing
Big snowflakes fill the morning air, with about four
inches of fluff covering the
plowed yard so far. Schools are closed all over the North
Country, and we could
see well over a foot of new snow before the storm is over.
This, however, does not
really qualify as coming in like a lion... for
that, it needs to be much windier. This storm
is more coming in like a little kitty, serenely
watching the action in comfort from her perch
on a padded windowsill. What we have here is a normal
winter snowfall, not a squall or blizzard,
just plain ordinary snow. Now, tomorrow may be another
story altogether, we will have to wait
and see. Even though the view today is white and wintry,
there have been lots of things signaling
springtime’s approach. Potted geraniums are putting
out new showy blooms as daylight hours
lengthen, and last year’s windowsill herbs have
perked up into a last gasp of flavor and frag-
rance before giving up the ghost to make way for new
seedlings. We have stopped receiving
colorful seed catalogues, and are now awaiting the
delivery of actual seeds. Flies and lady-
bugs are starting to explore the sunnier windows at
midday and then collect in crevices
at night, to be discovered in stuporous dormancy when the
window is opened to let
in fresh air. I am sure the month of March still holds
plenty of surprises,
but it is clear that winter is winding down.
Enjoy the fresh snow,
Daisy
~
~
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