Tuesday, April 29, 2003, 9:00 a.m.
55 degrees, breezy, mostly
sunny
It is a beautiful clear
morning with the shadows falling long on the land.
There is an almost ethereal quality to the morning light,
a crispness and
clarity that outlines each leaf, blade and bloom with
precise definition.
Early last evening we walked to a nearby pond and were
surrounded by very
loud frogsong, but the actual frogs all stayed pretty
much out of sight.
There are several slimy looking masses of frog’s
eggs suspended around the
edges of the pond, and soon the place will be swarming
with pollywogs.
A muskrat slid into the water from the far bank, and
worked its way over
toward us in a series of graceful dives. Every time it
surfaced, the giant rat
paused to eat something unidentifiable (to us). It came
very close; either it
didn’t see or smell us, or it has not yet become
familiar with humans and their
potential for harm. It was larger than I had imagined
such a creature to be.
We will keep an eye on this little pond in the coming
weeks and watch the
frogs hatch. Perhaps we will be able to find out if this
muskrat has a mate,
and catch a glimpse of the family.
Must be Muskrat Love... (Captain and
Tennille)
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, April 28, 2003, 8:45 a.m.
63 degrees, windy, sunny
It is windy outside this
morning, but the wind has no teeth.
It is filled with the smell of wet soil and worms and the
sound of grouse
and songbirds and, best of all, it is warm. It appears
that there is no
frosty weather in the week’s forecast, so today
would be a good time to
plant some early crops like peas, lettuce, spinach,
carrots, and onions.
If we put in a short row of red potatoes, we may have
spuds to eat on
Independence Day, when most local gardeners are just
planting them. It
is probably safe to set out the pansies and other hardy
annuals, as long as
they go in a spot out of the wind, otherwise we can wait
until tomorrow.
Our kitchen is full of little jars of colorful pansies
and other blooms snatched
from the early bulb borders. Forsythia branches that were
cut last week and
brought indoors have been forced into a sunny cloud of
color, and the daffodils
are ready to burst into blossom at any moment. It is
amazing the changes that
a few warm days can bring. I believe I can actually see
the grass growing,
even as I write this.
Have a sunny day,
Daisy
Sunday, April 27, 2003, 7:15 a.m.
40 degrees, thin fog, calm
The fog isn’t too bad
this morning, and is supposed to burn off and
reveal sunny breaks throughout the day. The tide of
robins has once
more rolled in, and there are hundreds of them chirping
heartily away
as they harvest their breakfast. There were zillions of
nightcrawlers
coming up for air last night, easy picking for those with
a yearning for
fresh fish. There have been reports of good catches of
brown trout in
valley streams and rivers, but the woods are still full
of snow on Tug Hill.
In our experience, the sweet plump native brook trout
will not be catchable
until after most of the snow has gone. We used to try our
luck on opening day,
skiing back to a stream with the kids and dapping our
lines in from a six foot
snowbank, losing lots of hooks and floats in the rushing
water. We never caught
one fish, but the outings were fun anyway. The price of a
fishing license has
risen about 500% since we started fishing up here, but
nineteen bucks is still a
small enough price to pay for all of the hours spent
along the wild banks of the
backcountry streams and secret pools; the fish are
incidental to the adventure.
(Well, maybe not so incidental to the fish,
not in a good way...) Maybe a little
field trip to the flatlands is in order for today; try
our luck off the Hill,
now that there is bait galore. Whatever your plan is for
today,
take time to drink in the beauty of the season.
Have fun,
Daisy
Saturday, April 26, 2003, 7:15 a.m.
39 degrees, breezy,
overcast, raining
There is a gentle spring
rain falling and it is not going to let
up until tomorrow. We all know what April showers bring:
mud boots,
sump pumps, and getting stuck on that back road that has
never been
paved. Yesterday was truly a gem of a day. We walked
along one of the
snowmobile trails for several miles, and found quite a
bit of snow in long
patches that made walking challenging. In just a few more
days the trails
should be good for mountain biking, as long as you don’t
mind getting
muddy. The sights, sounds, and smells of spring were
around every corner.
The vernal ponds were a-ripple with frogs, voices silent
in the noontime sun
but making a loud plop as
they cannonballed to avoid our footfalls.
We heard the high whistled two-note call of the
meadowlark from high
in the balsams. The evergreens diffused the entire path
with their wonderful
sweet aromas, better than any perfume or incense on the
market. The
coltsfoot is blooming along the walls of the gorge. This
small dandelion-like
flower comes up before the foliage; after the bloom dies,
the large leaf
(about the size and shape of a colt’s foot) appears.
In earlier times, the
indiginous folk dried the leaves and used them as a
seasoning; they are very
salty. The wild leeks are growing fast as the temperature
moderates;
it won’t be long before we can add them to our soup.
There is much to appreciate about Tug Hill,
and every spring it is all brand new and amazing,
no matter how many times we experience it.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, April 25, 2003, 9:00 a.m.
48 degrees, mostly sunny,
calm
It is nice to see things
casting a shadow once again.
The back meadow is overflowing with robins, each one
greedily
plucking fat worms from the waterlogged earth. The frogs
added to
the spring chorus late yesterday afternoon, several
species chirring
and clucking and gluck-goong-ing it up in the swamps and
vernal ponds.
One of the best things about this season is the noise of
it all.
The drumming of the male ruffed grouse adds the backbeat
to the
turkey gobbles and frog chirps; the songbirds carry the
melody, and
the coyotes come late to the concert with their high-pitched
soulful
descant rising above it all. This morning we were
delighted by the multiple
songs of a catbird perched on the back clothesline.
Possessing an even
greater repertoire of tunes than its cousin the
mockingbird, he sang for
quite a while and never repeated the same phrase twice.
Where the
mockingbird is a skilled mimic and gets every note
perfect, the catbird
just strings together a series of implications, not exact
copies. Beautiful
oriole-like warbling was followed by raucous raven-y
snarls, and even the
laughing cry of the woodpecker was attempted. This plain
grey bird is truly
a virtuoso of the avian world, although some field guides
give it little credit
for its ability. I hope this one finds a home nearby.
Today it will begin to
feel more like spring than winter, and we all should get
out and enjoy the day.
Listen closely; see what kind of concert is in your
neighborhood.
Sing along,
Daisy
Thursday, April 24, 2003, 10:15 a.m.
33 degrees, sunny breaks,
breezy, 1" new snow
The extra early shift took
me down off the Hill at 4:30 this morning.
There was a good covering of snow up here, but as soon as
I crested
Gomer Hill the road was bare. Today’s sunshine
should make short work
of this little wintry interlude. There is still plenty of
old snow on the sled
trails and in the woods, so we have the possibility of
either a ski excursion or
a hike later today. The sun is peeking out from between
big puffy grey clouds,
and there are more patches of blue appearing every minute.
Bundle up, it will
continue to be on the chilly side, but it looks like it
is shaping up to be a fine
day. For you local folks, the first of twelve walk/run
outings begins tonight on
the canal tow path in Boonville; meet at the Erwin Park
pavilion at 6:30.
For tonight, at least, there will not be any black flies
or mosquitoes.
See you there,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 23, 2003, 7:45 a.m.
29 degrees, calm, overcast,
flurries, dusting of new snow
The forecast calls for
flurries to continue throughout the day with
an inch or two of accumulation. Let’s hope the
weatherman is wrong.
The snow is falling gently, big lazy flakes kissing the
early spring blossoms.
Winter sure is taking its time making an exit. Last year
it didn’t leave until the
middle of May, with a big dump of snow that nearly buried
the tulips and daffodils;
we have some interesting photos of beautiful scarlet and
yellow blooms just peeking
out of the stark white snow. The veil of flurries isn’t
putting the tom turkeys off
from strutting and preening for their harems. They are
parading about the lower
meadow with the hens gathered around, all lovestruck and
moony-eyed, pouty-beaked
in anticipation... Good grief, I’ve gotta get a grip
! It’s a good day for sorting through the winter
clothes, mending and cleaning and packing up boxes for
summer storage. Tune up the skis and oil the winter
boots, put everything away clean and ready to go for next
winter. Take the plow off of the truck and put on the
summer tires. Maybe these simple acts will produce the
necessary representative magic that
will send Old Man Winter packing until the trees turn
bare again next autumn.
Have a busy day,
Daisy
Tuesday, April 22, 2003, 7:45 a.m.
46 degrees, calm, overcast,
misty
It is amazing how quickly
things are greening up. It won’t be long before
the lawn mowers come out of storage. The moderate
temperatures of the
past week have really brought out the meadow grasses and
forage crops,
and deer have been ranging freely all over the fields
behind the house.
The deer that survived the winter look healthy, the sleek
bellies of the
does pulsing with the promise of new life. The yearlings
seem to have taken
a beating, with last summer’s drought and the lean
winter affording them little
chance of building a good layer of fat. They are making
up for those hard times
by spending most of the past few days chowing down on
tender clover shoots and
timothy sprouts. Tomorrow’s menu will likely include
a generous helping of snow;
like the deer, we should roam the meadows today seeking
food for the soul,
tasty morsels of spring to see us through the next couple
of wintry days.
It is April, and anything goes.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
Monday, April 21, 2003, 9:00 a.m.
51 degrees, breezy, mostly
cloudy
There were a few brief
showers earlier this morning; the drops were
huge and fell with authority. There are still a few
outdoor chores
to finish up, but for the most part the yard and gardens
are ready for
the growing season. Some of the shrubbery took a beating
in the heavy
wet snows that we had this winter. The spring bulbs are
beginning to burst
into bloom, and the wild leeks that grow along the fence
line have poked
their pointy purple heads out of the ground. Honeybees
have been working
the crocuses, and wasps have been looking for a way into
the sunporch.
Bees are welcome visitors, but wasps and hornets are not.
Since most states
have done away with mandatory beehive inspection, there
has been a 90%
decline in the number of domestic honeybees in New York
State. Hives have
fallen prey to foul brood as well as numerous mites and
other parasites that
can kill off entire colonies in a short time. Perhaps you
have noticed that there
are fewer cucumbers on your vines, or that the tomato
plants are filled with
blossoms but only some of them set fruit. Without bees,
many crops don’t get
pollinated. When bees are scarce, it helps to grow things
that attract them to
the area around the vegetable garden. Sweet william, red
clover, dianthus, and
bergamot (known also as bee balm)
will not only add beauty and fragrance to your life,
but will draw bees closer to home as well.
Let’s get bzzzzzzz-y,
Daisy
Sunday, April 20, 2003, 7:45 a.m.
51 degrees, partly sunny,
breezy
It is a beautiful spring
morning full of birdsong and warm sun,
tempered by a cool breeze. The tom turkeys have been
gobbling up a
storm and the choir of songbirds is doing their best to
sing in the day.
When I was a youngster, we arose before dawn every Easter
Sunday to
attend sunrise service at a local cemetery. Life in a
large midwest city had
some advantages, but outdoor activities were not yet part
of my lifestyle.
Easter is the only day of the year I would see the sun
come up. The robins
would greet us as we left the house, and we would always
say "We should get
up this early more often," but we never did. The
early hours on Tug Hill are
worth getting up for; every sunrise is different, and
each is beautiful in its
own way. The creatures of the dawn in springtime compete
for our attention
with the splendor of the sun’s rays, and an early
morning walk often sets the
mood for the rest of the day. If you are "not a
morning person" you are
missing out on what could be the benchmark moments of the
rest of the day.
Even a few minutes spent in the yard before breakfast
will enrich the day.
Good morning !
Daisy
Saturday, April 19, 2003, 7:30 a.m.
38 degrees, overcast,
sprinkles
We spent yesterday outdoors
raking up the leaves and other debris
that fell after the first snowstorm in October. As we
scratched the
back of Mother Earth, wonderful aromas wafted up from the
perennials:
oregano, several kinds of mint, pennyroyal, and bergamot.
Most of these
herbs escaped their borders long ago and have invaded
patches of lawn,
making the chores of mowing and raking a treat for the
nose, a little reward
in the middle of the labor. All afternoon we could hear
the mating call of
male bluebirds, but they were perched somewhere out of
sight. This morning
they revealed themselves, one on the mailbox and one
sitting high atop a spruce
tree in the yard. So far we have seen two males and one
female, flying from
place to place and exploring the single nesting box by
the corner of the garden.
Soon the tree swallows will return, and it is this lovely
species that always set
up housekeeping in that particular box. The bluebirds
will choose a house that
is paired with another, and will seldom win the right to
a single dwelling.
The swallows are more than welcome in any one of our nine
boxes,
as they eat plenty of mosquitoes and black flies while
they are around.
Speaking of which... let’s enjoy these last few
insect-free days !
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, April 18, 2003, 7:45 a.m.
32 degrees, cloudy, breezy
There is a woodchuck basking
in the gloom down by the spring this morning.
The fields were peppered with the roly-poly little guys
yesterday afternoon.
They moved slowly, seeking the first tender shoots of
spring. It won’t be
long before the roadsides are littered with their bloated
carcasses, joining the
scores of unfortunate skunks that are already on the menu
at the Roadkill Cafe.
Such abundance of carrion gives us the opportunity to see
turkey vultures feasting;
an uglier bird couldn’t be dreamed up by Wes Craven.
There are black vultures in
our area as well, but it is the turkey vulture (also
called a buzzard) that is most
commonly seen at the side of the road. They have no
teeth, and prefer their meals,
um, naturally tenderized (rotten,
actually...) They certainly aren’t as loveable as
the
cute little juncos or beautiful bluebirds, but they have
their place in the wheel of life. Just think of how the
roadkill would pile up over the years if we didn’t
have
the services of nature’s own clean-up crew.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
Thursday, April 17, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
31 degrees, mostly sunny,
breezy
This morning’s forecast:
cloudy with a chance of diamonds.
The east meadow appears to have been
strewn with giant gems during the night,
each one reflecting the morning sunlight with a burst of
brilliance. It appears
that the rain froze into large ice crystals on every
leaf, tuft, and hummock
instead of a uniform glaze over the whole surface. It is
very beautiful when
viewed from afar, but upon closer examination the
bejeweled illusion disappears.
A skilled photographer might be able to capture this
fleeting moment on film,
but when I get my photos back from the developer I will
probably look at the
one I just took and think "what the heck is this
spoze ta be..."
Sometimes the palette of the mind’s eye is the one
that works the best.
Go capture a moment,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 16, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
40 degrees, foggy, breezy
This yo-yo path the weather
seems to be taking makes us restless
for the real thing, the genuine article of soft warm
spring days.
Yesterday there were kids playing catch in their yards,
cruising the
side roads on their bicycles, and running through town in
tank tops
and shorts for track practice. The back roads have
started to dry out
and walking was a pleasure. The high winds that blew were
warm, and the
smell of new growth on the conifers was everywhere. The
high temperature
on the Hill yesterday was 72, and the crocuses were
finally coaxed into
lovely pale violet bloom. Today is definitely a
meteorological letdown,
but not entirely without charm. Walking in the mist
conjures up our more
primeval feelings that take us back in time to the first
sentient humanoids.
With the limited actual vision that the fog provides, we
are free to turn our
thoughts inward as we walk, solving mysteries, imagining
fantastic vistas,
or even thinking about absolutely nothing for a change.
The rhythmic plodding
of our feet, the natural cadence of the act of walking,
all serve to produce
calming alpha waves in our highly evolved brains.
I urge you all to step out for a walk this morning (before
the wintry mix returns)
and walk for a while without any motive or apparent
purpose.
Let the walk happen to you;you will be glad you did.
Get up and go,
Daisy
Tuesday, April 15, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
56 degrees, mostly sunny,
windy
The robins are back in full
force, and their lovely spring songs greeted
this day well before the sunrise. There are many bare
spots in the meadows
after yesterday’s sixty degree high, and each one
has several early birds eagerly
getting their worms. A dozen canada geese just flew past
the window, still low to
the ground after their liftoff from the vernal pond at
the lower edge of the field.
That shimmering patch of water has become the local
watering hole for many critters
during the past few days, birds and mammals alike. Some
deer have been scavenging
in the garden as the snow’s retreat reveals leftover
beetroots, broccoli stems, and a
few small potatoes. There has been a pair of killdeer
plovers hanging around the edge of the garden, seeking
the perfect patch of dirt in which to deposit some eggs.
Every year we have to dodge around a clutch of spotted
eggs with the rototiller
as the momma bird tries to lead us in the opposite
direction with her shrill
broken-gaited diversionary tactics, little realizing that
we are on her team.
The eggs are there for a few weeks; then, as if by magic,
every trace of them is gone. When young birds hatch, they
are fully feathered miniature replicas of their parents.
The first thing they do after emerging from the egg is
run and hide in the tall grass while momma hides the
scraps of eggshell. They spend their first few days on
earth running from cats, dogs, and humans, and keeping
one step ahead of the lawn mower. They are seldom seen
after hatching, and the adult birds retreat into the
weeds as well. Today is going to be pleasantly warm,
coaxing the last of the frost from the ground and
releasing more snow from the trails.
It is a good day for a walk; get out while you can;
we are looking at chilly rain for the next few days.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, April 14, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
37 degrees, mostly sunny,
breezy
The yard is full of blue
jays this morning. There have been one or two
hanging around all winter, but today there are about a
dozen of them, conversing
loudly with their bell-like tones and streaking around
leaving bright trails of blue.
They have thoroughly explored the empty sunflower heads
and wrangled every last
seed from the lilac bushes and are now cavorting and
swooping from one perch to
another. Perhaps it is some seasonal mating dance. Maybe
they are just plain happy
to be alive. Whatever the reason, they are fun to observe
from the back porch,
breakfast and a show. Yesterday was a perfect day, and
our gang of intrepid skiers
never did reach the final destination, but the adventure
was in the journey.
The snow was fast and there was access to every part of
the forest, no bare spots
or impossible water crossings at all. We covered a lot of
ground and saw plenty of
footprints, deer being the most prevalent. The perfectly
round pawprints of a large
cat were noted, but since they had eroded in the sun it
was hard to determine
whether they were lynx or cougar. The sun was so strong
that even the imprints
left by a leaping deer soon eroded to pie-plate size,
making positive identification
of many tracks difficult. There were many porcupine
tracks, and a lot of trees had
the bark stripped from them by the spiky little critters.
It was a perfect day for
man and beast, and a fitting end to the ski season. The
high temperatures predicted
for today and tomorrow will quickly convert the snowpack
into meltwater; while there
is the possibility of another little ski trip in the
coming weeks, it is time to trade in
the skis for the mountain bikes, kayaks, and all-terrain
shoes of summer.
It’s all good,
Daisy
Sunday, April 13, 2003, 7:30 a.m.
30 degrees, sunny, calm
Not much snow was lost
yesterday, although the wet spots in the meadows
have grown a little larger. A lengthy cross country ski
expedition was carried
out without encountering any bare spots or difficult
creek crossings. We skied
through thick balsam forests and sunny new-growth
pastures until we reached
our destination, a large beaver meadow. The water drained
out several years
ago through a six-foot breach in the dam, leaving behind
a seemingly barren
expanse of dead trees standing in stark formation. It was
at one time a huge
beaver dam, measuring over a hundred feet in length. When
the beavers lived
there, the pond held several varieties of waterfowl, and
many of the trees sported
the helter-skelter nests of great blue herons. The trout,
suckers, horned dace,
and chubs that once flashed silvery beneath the water
have all moved on to more
viable habitats. The thin trickle that is left behind is
home to crawdads, snakes,
and doodlebugs, none of which were out and about
yesterday. There was still
plenty of snow on the banks of the flow, and this is one
of the spots on the Hill
where the snow will linger the longest. It was well worth
the trip;
the silent and stark beauty of the stately trees,
gurgling stream,
and pillowy snow piles were ample reward for our exertion.
Today will be another
excellent day to strap on the skinny skis and drink in
the day.
Have a wonder-full day,
Daisy
Saturday, April 12, 2003, 7:00 a.m.
40 degrees, mostly sunny,
gentle breeze
We are back to full snow
coverage in the woods and meadows on the Hill,
but that will change quickly over the next few days.
There are a few wet
spots beginning to seep through, and the runoff from the
spring has cut a
little channel in the snow. Last night a flock of turkeys
was gathered around
one of these little oases and two toms were strutting
their stuff, tails fanned
out in a glorious display of testosterone. Any morning
now we will be able to
hear them gobbling their courtship riffs, "Hey baby,
wanna come over to my place
for a little wild turkey..." There seem to be more
of these big goofy birds than ever, but just try to find
one on opening day of turkey season !
Today and tomorrow are supposed to be sunny and chilly,
perfect for catching
what may well be the last good days of cross country
skiing. By Monday afternoon
the temps will be so warm that the snow will likely be
sticky and mushy.
Take advantage of these lovely days to plan some outdoor
activity,
even if it is as simple as having your lunch on the porch.
This day will never pass your way again.
Have fun,
Daisy
Friday, April 11, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
38 degrees, high thin
clouds, filtered sunlight, calm
It looks like a fine day for
almost any activity, indoors or out.
Yesterday we went cross country skiing into a cedar swamp
in the outback.
As long as we stayed in the sunshine, the gliding was
perfect. As soon as
we entered the shady forest, the snow became icy and
rotten at the same time,
and stuck like glue to the bottoms of our skis. We
thoroughly explored the
sunny swamp, where dozens of snowshoe hares had been
cavorting earlier in
the day. There were the tracks of one lone coyote, moving
in the straight
line of a well-fed critter, not in the meandering path of
a dog on the hunt.
On the drive to the trailhead, we passed two young deer
that had been
thrust up onto the snowbank by a vehicle. We saw plenty
of animal tracks
and sign, but very few living breathing specimens. Three
huge white birds
flew high overhead but they had the wrong silhouette to
be snow geese.
Perhaps they were some kind of gull, blown off course by
the recent storms.
There are lots of gulls here in the summer, hunting
through the furrows of
newly plowed ground or searching the spaces between the
windrowed hay.
I am sure there are seagulls that have never been within
shouting distance of the sea, a whole new subspecies of
farmgulls and dumpgulls and McDonald’s
parkinglotgulls. Keep your eyes peeled today, there may
be many odd birds passing overhead on their spring
migratory routes.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Thursday, April 10, 2003, 7:00 a.m.
31 degrees, calm, cloudless
There are plenty of birds in
the air on this fine sunny morning.
Most of them are blackbirds of one kind or another. The
robins haven’t
been around for a week or so, since the last snow fell;
they must need
open ground to feed on. Every time I take a walk I look
for the first bluebirds,
but they haven’t been spotted yet by anyone on the
hill.
They are slightly smaller than a robin, and the male has
similar
coloration as a robin except for the bright blue feathers
on his back and wings.
Folks are often surprised at the buff/orange color on the
breast of the
first bluebird they ever see, perhaps expecting them to
be entirely blue
like an indigo bunting. The female’s blue is
slightly less vivid and will fade
after mating season. The eastern bluebird is two-toned
and their western
cousin the mountain bluebird lacks the orange trim. I
usually recognize a
bluebird by the silhouette as it perches on a high wire
and surveys the land.
They sit alone, only appearing in small flocks in
September after hatching
two or three broods; then the whole extended family shows
up for several weeks,
to imprint the lay of the land on their young. In the
spring the males arrive first
and are solitary, looking for suitable nesting sites. One
male may service up to
three females, and he helps with all the nest building,
feeding the hatchlings
and protecting the nests. The eastern bluebird is the
state bird of New York. Because of the thousands of
nesting boxes that people have provided for this
beautiful songbird, it is once again a common sight all
over the open countryside in our area.
Keep looking for spring,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 9, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
27 degrees, foggy, calm
The trees and shrubs are
coated with a delicate layer of fog rime
right down to the tiniest twig. It is very pretty, and
hopefully fleeting.
Some patches of roadway have also been slicked up by the
fog, so use
caution until the temperature goes up. The weekend
forecast indicates
a warming trend is on the way, with temps in the 50s at
the beginning
of next week. There have been several years that lettuce
seeds and peas
have gone in the ground as early as tax day, but
apparently not this year.
The spring bulbs that began to emerge at the end of March
are currently under
a foot or more of snow and ice, yet that never seems to
hurt them much.
The pussy willows are in full fuzz under their thin layer
of ice and the
forsythia buds are beginning to bulge; a few branches
brought inside now
will probably force into bloom in about a week. A harsh
long winter season
makes us appreciate every subtle hint of change; spring
tantalizes us with
an occasional sweet pine smell or joyful robin’s
warble, then winter butts in
with another week of snow and ice lest we get too cocky.
We take what
Mother Nature doles out, and accept her tricks and minor
inconveniences
as part of living in the beautiful Tug Hill Wilderness
Area.
We can curse the snow, or look at it as an opportunity to
extend the ski
season another week or two. Attitude is all.
Enjoy the day,
Daisy
Tuesday, April 8, 2003, 6:30 a.m.
20 degrees, calm overcast,
flurries, 2" new snow
This morning’s sunrise
is obscured by clouds and a veil of snow flurries
floating gently to the ground. The only signs of life
outside are three
blackbirds and several vehicles full of folks on their
way to work.
The plow was up here early and the road looks to be in
good shape.
Yesterday we noticed that the creek across the road has
started to
be snowed over again; there are only a few small spots of
open water.
The big pool of meltwater at the bottom of the meadow has
frozen over,
and the drainage ditch is not brimful like it was early
last week.
This setback in the weather can only last a little while;
spring is sure to return to the land, just like it always
has.
Hope springs eternal,
Daisy
Monday, April 7, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
14 degrees, mostly cloudy,
calm, no new snow
Wasn’t it wonderful to
have the daylight extend into the evening hours yesterday
!
A late afternoon walk didn’t
have to be rushed in order to get home before twilight.In
spite of the chilly temperatures, the sun was shining
brightly, icicles dripped, snow was sliding from the tin
roof, and the memories of the awful weekend storm slowly
dimmed. Today we will be feeling the edge of a powerful
front that should pass to the south of us, dropping just
an inch or two of snow before it moves on. There was a
beautiful sunrise before the clouds closed in, every warm
color reflected
off of the surface of the new snow. A large flock of
turkeys is gathered at the open
spot of water in the lower meadow. They have been there
since dawn; perhaps there is something to feed on around
the edges of the pool. The beech trees are showing the
first bud swellings that will soon be little mouse-eared
leaves.
(That’s when the old-timers on the Hill will fish
for spring trout.
They’ll tell you no self-respecting trout will be
taking bait on April first,
that is way too early...)
Have a fine day,
Daisy
Sunday, April 6, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
13
degrees, partly sunny, flurries, calm, 1" new snow
After
last night’s howling gale the peace and quiet of the
gentle morning flurries
is surprising. High winds violently flung ice from the
big maple trees in the yard,
and every time a big chunk hit the windows I thought for
sure there would
eventually be broken glass to clean up. The ashes from
the big wood stove
needed to be hauled out yesterday, and by the time I
carried it across the
yard to the big ash barrel it was empty, blown clean.
Today is going to have
some sunny breaks, and later in the week we may see
warmer temperatures to
go along with the sun. The tomato plants on the window
sill have sprouted their
first set of true leaves, and are beginning to lean
optimistically towards the sun.
It is absolutely amazing to think of all the tomatoes
that will result from the planting of just one little
packet of seeds. When I was a girl it was a fad to wear a
mustard seed pendant, just one little mustard seed,
encased in clear plastic and worn on a cheap gold colored
chain. It served to remind us that one small seed (or one
small act) could have a huge impact on things. I know it
was based on a Bible verse, but which one escapes me now.
Of course, farmers and gardeners know that mustard is one
of the most invasive, hard-to-eradicate weeds on the face
of this earth. Maybe when the Bible was written mustard
was a valuable spice or source of fresh greens and
forage, not an invasive weed. Perhaps some enterprising
individual could update the idea and craft a new trendy
pendant, a single soybean, encased in clear plastic and
worn on a braided hemp fiber necklace...
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, April 6, 2003, 8:00 a.m.
13
degrees, partly sunny, flurries, calm, 1" new snow
After
last night’s howling gale the peace and quiet of the
gentle morning flurries
is surprising. High winds violently flung ice from the
big maple trees in the yard,
and every time a big chunk hit the windows I thought for
sure there would
eventually be broken glass to clean up. The ashes from
the big wood stove
needed to be hauled out yesterday, and by the time I
carried it across the
yard to the big ash barrel it was empty, blown clean.
Today is going to have
some sunny breaks, and later in the week we may see
warmer temperatures to
go along with the sun. The tomato plants on the window
sill have sprouted their
first set of true leaves, and are beginning to lean
optimistically towards the sun.
It is absolutely amazing to think of all the tomatoes
that will result from the planting of just one little
packet of seeds. When I was a girl it was a fad to
wear a mustard seed pendant, just one little mustard
seed, encased in clear plastic
and worn on a cheap gold colored chain. It served to
remind us that one small seed
(or one small act)
could have a huge impact on things. I know it was based
on a Bible verse, but which
one escapes me now. Of course, farmers and gardeners know
that mustard is one of
the most invasive, hard-to-eradicate weeds on the face of
this earth.
Maybe when the Bible was written mustard was a valuable
spice or source of fresh greens and forage, not an
invasive weed. Perhaps some enterprising individual could
update the idea and craft a new trendy pendant, a single
soybean, encased in clear plastic and worn on a braided
hemp fiber necklace...
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, April 5, 2003, 7:00 a.m.
20
degrees, overcast, windy, 8-10" new snow/sleet/graupple
There
is stuff falling from the sky right now that defies
classification.
Whatever it is, it has plastered the windows on the south
side of the house
with thick ice. It sounds like rain, but it feels like
ice when it hits the face.
At times it looks like snow. I think the tee-vee weather
gurus would call
it a wintry mix.
Plowing the yard was impossible yesterday; the snow and
ice had frozen into strata that rendered a mere all-wheel
drive pickup truck
useless without chains. Shoveling the stuff was hard
work, and I’ll bet there
is more than one sore back on the Hill today. No hiking,
no skiing, no heavy chores...
just sit back with the heating pad and a good book for a
little while, work out the kinks.
Maybe this chilly weather is sending us a message to
chill out as well.
Just chillin’,
Daisy
Friday, April 4, 2003, 7:00 a.m.
19 degrees, snowing, breezy,
4" new snow (so far...)
The parking lots and
sidewalks of Boonville were treacherous with ice
yesterday afternoon, and on the trip home from work there
was a light
rain falling and freezing instantly onto the windshield.
Just after dark,
golf ball sized snowflakes started to plummet to the
ground, too wet
and heavy for any graceful floating. This kept up for
several minutes
before they changed into the good old regular average
sized flakes we
have had so many of this winter. There were nine deer in
the old potato
patch last evening, feeding on the squash, cabbage, and
carrots that were
just hauled out of the cold cellar, stuff just on the
wrong side of ripeness.
Good thing they cleaned it all up last night; it is now
buried under snow.
The blackbirds are greeting the day from their perch in
the big maple tree;
no matter what the weather those little critters have
been there first thing
every day since Christmas. There is a little break in the
snow right now,
but the forecast is for another eight inches to fall
before this storm is over.
Is this winter’s last gasp ?
Or is it just a prelude to a wintry spring...
stay warm,
Daisy
Thursday, April 3, 2003, 7:00 a.m.
27 degrees, overcast,
breezy, 1" new snow/sleet
It is much nicer outside
right now than you think.
There are no hard little pellets of graupple whipping
around,
no torrents of icy rain, no wet wind-driven snow taking
your breath away.
Yet. If you are planning to get out for a stroll today,
the sooner the better.
Some freezing rain fell overnight, compacting the snow
and giving it an
interesting crunchy texture. A deer wandered right
through the front yard,
after stopping to nibble on the dead mums poking up
through the crust. It
made a full turn around the house, then wandered off down
towards the spring.
If the deer are this bold now, we’d better start
stocking up on repellent
materials before the tulips emerge. Hair clippings from
the dog’s spring
haircut are effective, as are soap shavings and garlic
spray. Kitty litterbox
waste can also be placed at the corners of the flower
beds; just be careful
where you step. A friend got some lion droppings from the
zoo to keep the
deer out of her strawberry bed, but it smelled so rank
that picking berries
was best done wearing noseplugs. With all of the tender
grasses and herbs
of spring that will be soon emerging by the acre, why do
deer feel the
need to raid home gardens ? Some friends from the city
were visiting here
last summer, and a doe and two fawns were moseying up
towards the house.
The city folk were enthralled, running to get the camera,
ooh-ing and ah-ing.
After they shot some pics, I took off after the deer
waving a long bamboo
pole and screaming like a banshee. "Oh, you scared
them away ! Why did you
do that?" "Because it’s illegal to shoot
them..." (Not that I ever could...)
Ah, well, we can spend the next couple of wintry days
remembering summer:
the heat and humidity, the mountains of fresh beans to
put in the freezer,
the weeding and hoeing and bike riding and creek wadin’
and dozing on the
porch after dinner... it will be here soon enough.
Enjoy this day,
Daisy
Wednesday, April 2, 2003, 7:00 a.m.
28 degrees, foggy, calm, 2"
new snow
The view from the top of Tug
Hill is very limited today;
the fog is very dense, lending an aura of mystery to the
day.
What creatures (real or otherwise) could loom large out
of the mist
and catch us by surprise ? Could a black cougar be hiding
in the shadows,
lean from a hard winter and seeking easy prey ? Could an
unwary traveler
accidentally come between a sow bear and her cubs, and
incur the protective
wrath of ursine motherly love ? And what is that hulking
form, glimpsed
running through the balsams with an ungainly lope; are we
running from
the sasquatch, or is it fleeing us...
Although the likelihood of running afoul of any of these
creatures is slim,
all have been reported as living here on the Hill,
and a fog-enshrouded day like this puts the imagination
in overdrive.
Have an adventurous day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, April 1, 2003, 7:00 a.m.
15
degrees, breezy, partly sunny, 2" new snow
This
morning I was enjoying my morning beverage on the back
porch when
I was surprised to see a half dozen ostriches sprinting
across the back field,
pursued by something that could best be described as a
very large albino cougar.
"Amazing!" I thought to myself, until I
remembered today’s date...
In
actuality, there were about a thousand blackbirds of all
varieties perched
in the three large maple trees by the barn. The noise was
all-encompassing,
lots of clicks, trills, whistles, and chatter; the dog
was reluctant to venture out
and was skittish even when I accompanied him. Our
presence in the yard did
nothing to scatter the birds, and it was an awesome
display of organized dissonance. The birds finally
streamed out of the trees toward the northern hedgerow,
their
hue and cry temporarily silenced. There is once again
great snow coverage on the
Hill, and a ski trip today is sure to be interesting; the
spring creatures are all out
and about, and we will be keeping our eyes peeled for
black bear tracks.
They are very shy on the Hill; tracks, scat, and tree
markings are all I have ever
seen of them.A friend saw one on his bicycle last summer.
(How it got on his bicycle, we will never know...)
Don’t get fooled today,
Daisy
~
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