February, 2003
My View From the Top
~ by Mrs. Gomer Hill ~

Email Daisy
~

Friday, February 28, 2003, 9:00 a.m.

25 degrees, brightly overcast, calm, smattering of new snow

The sun is struggling to poke through the high thin clouds that hang in the sky
above out neck of the woods. It is going to be a lovely day; spring is in the air.
The promise of a beautiful day is an almost tangible thing on a morning like this.
It is that ineffable combination of smells, sounds, and the way the light slants
down from a different angle that add an extra bounce to our steps this morning.
Sap buckets are beginning to make an appearance on the big maples along the back roads,
and blue plastic tubing is springing up in the most unlikely places on the Hill.
If there is a maple tree on your property, one single tap will provide you with some sweet
sippin’ for the next few weeks. Used in place of water, it makes the best fresh lemonade.
Don’t drink too much sap unless you are looking to get cleaned out real good...
too much of a good thing. Get out and experience this lovely day;
sure, more snow is on the way,
but today is such a gem it shouldn’t go unnoticed.
Have fun,
Daisy

Thursday, February 27, 2003, 6:30 a.m.

6 degrees, clear, calm, no new snow

The eastern sky is sitting in layers... grey at the horizon, dusty rose above that,
and finally topped with an infinite expanse of pale blue. There is just a tiny sliver
of a moon hanging vertically, what some would call a "fingernail moon". Today we
will gain four additional minutes of sunlight, two minutes at each end of the day.
It is wonder-full to have the available daylight gradually lengthen over time.
If we got it all at once, I don’t think it would be so miraculous. Of course,
the first Sunday in April we will have the appearance of a longer day due to
the onset of Daylight Savings Time, but the later sunset will be at the expense
of a later sunrise as well. A friend who spent several years in the Spice Islands
reports that the sun rose at six in the morning and set at six in the evening,
with only a few minutes variation due to the island’s location near the equator.
How boring ! At our northern latitude, we can experience a wide range of day
lengths to go alongwith our huge variety of weather conditions.
Today is expected to be a perfect late winter day;
take advantage of it, even if only for a few moments.
Breathe deep and enjoy life.
Have a great day,
Daisy

Wednesday, February 26, 2003, 11:00 a.m.

11 degrees, mostly sunny, breezy, no new snow

The day started quite early with a trip off the hill at 4:30 for
one of those crazy early morning jobs. There was a big orange crescent moon hung
over the horizon, on the wane until it disappears again March third. We have had
some spectacular full moons this winter, but a new moon affords us the best chance
to see the stars in all their glory. There are few artificial lights on Tug Hill,
and the clear moonless nights give us a look at the big picture... the really BIG picture.
Astronauts report that the earth as viewed from space is just a large mass of colorful
landforms and water, with no borders or boundaries other than the natural ones of rivers,
canyons, seas, and mountains. We can view photos of our planet as seen by the space travelers,
but it is like looking at a picture of the ocean, as opposed to actually standing in it and
experiencing the vastness of it.
The next clear night, look up and think about the importance of your bad haircut,
the traffic jam, the bullies (both domestic and international);
what is their place in the grand scheme of things? Disasters and horrific inhumanities have
happened all through the history of mankind, and continue to dog our tracks with alarming
regularity. Worrying about what may be sets up a chain reaction of negativity and despair,
and our lack of control over the big issues often carries over into our daily routine of haircuts
and road construction, leading to rage or depression over minor issues.
When you gaze at the Universe, reflect on the joys, triumphs, and loving acts that you have experienced.
Fill your whole being with positive affirmations, and leave the unsolvable problems of Planet Earth for the
experts. Focus on a wrong that you can help to right, instead of worrying randomly about everything at once.
World Peace will begin within each home, then spread to the village, the community at large, and so on.
If each person in the world did one small thing... helped a child, recycled some plastic,
volunteered at the animal shelter, planted roadside flowers, wrote a thoughtful letter to an official...
then we could look at the stars with hope. Each person matters, each positive act will help reverse the
terrible negative energy that seems to have the world firmly in its grasp.
Do what you can.
Start today.
Peace,
Daisy

Tuesday, February 25, 2003, 7:00 a.m.

-5 degrees, mostly sunny, calm, 2" new snow

There was fog in the valley as the sun came up,
a hazy ball of orange seen through a veil of silvery clouds. There is still
fog along the Black River, but most of the sky over Tug Hill is clear blue and cloudless.
The new snow is clean and pristine, covering up the dirty mess left by Sunday’s rain showers.
Even though the air temperature is frigid, there are lots of birds on the move this morning.
The big tree in the yard has more than the usual half-dozen blackbirds, all sounding off,
in fine spirits. How do they keep their feet warm on such a day as this ?
Perhaps that is why they have stuck around all winter; they are frozen to the branch.
Yesterday we were coming down off the Hill and there was a flock of about twenty
turkeys in the middle of the road; they would not get out of the way.
They just stood there, in a big stupid demonstration, "Bird-brains of the world, unite!"
As the car crept forward into their midst, they finally got the message and moseyed
slowly off the road. Come the first of May, we wish they were that soporific.
Today is the day the little white kitty gets to meet the vet for shots and a checkup.
We have spent weeks gaining her trust, and now we must shove her into a cage
and take her to a room full of other critters, some of them emitting cries and whines of fear.
We can’t put this visit off, as she has already had several suitors come to call.
If we are too late, watch this column in four months for a chance to win a free kitten...
Enjoy the day,
Daisy

Monday, February 24, 2003, 6:45 a.m.

-2 degrees, calm, a few clouds, 1" new snow

The temperature continued to plummet yesterday;
the rain turned to snow and then stopped late in the day.
The strong north wind, icy yard, and blowing snow made the trip to
the compost barrel very exciting. The frozen hardpack with this little
bit of snow on top will make for perfect cross-country ski conditions today;
every bit of terrain will be accessible without having to break through
literally tons of snow. Any animal tracks will be textbook-perfect on the
fresh powder, and the sun’s brilliance will etch sharp shadows on every surface.
There is more snow on the way this afternoon,
so get your errands out of the way this morning.
Ah, here comes the sun! Quick; look out your window!
Have a great day,
Daisy

Sunday, February 22, 2003, 9:00 a.m.

33 degrees, dense fog, calm, raining

At seven o’clock this morning it was foggy, calm, raining and 35 degrees.
The temperature has come down slightly, but the rest has stayed the same.
A brief foray into the yard proved that it will be treacherous to try and
take a walk on the icy road this morning. When properly dressed, walking
in the rain can be enjoyable, especially this time of year. The air is so
dense with moisture it is better than any spa facial. It is too soon for black flies,
and there is no need for sunscreen. The cross-country skiing today may actually be
quite good, as the snow has settled down into a dense base with a good slippery surface.
The snowmobile trailers have been heading off the Hill in droves this morning,
so it may even be possible to ski the unplowed back roads of Tug Hill without
having to step aside for traffic. The weather gurus say that there is a big change
coming this afternoon in the form of high winds and blinding snow; any outside
activities today would best be done before lunch.
Snuggle up this afternoon and watch a cheesy black and white movie
with a mug of something hot and tasty and a little popcorn.
Stay snug,
Daisy

Saturday, February 22, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

39 degrees, mostly cloudy, calm, no new snow

It is a very pretty morning on Tug Hill. Lots of birds are calling,
including the lunatic laughter of the pileated woodpecker who lives across the road.
The big trees in the yard were full of birds, and I thought I heard the provocative
"stay and plaaaaay" of the red-winged blackbird. When I stopped in my tracks and
strained to hear it again, of course it wasn’t there. There were several blue jays
offering their bell-like songs, and crows flying from hedgerow to copse and back
as if searching for a better perch for the concert.
There is a change in the weather headed our way later today,
rain from the east followed by a Canadian Clipper tomorrow.
If we want to savor this little bit of beauty, we should leave the indoor chores
behind and get outside while the gettin’ is good. There will be plenty of time
to catch up inside tomorrow while the wind howls and the snow flies.
Check it all out,
Daisy

Friday, February 21, 2003, 4:15 a.m.

28 degrees, clear with a zillion stars, calm, no new snow

That’s right, 4:15 a.m. Pretty darn early, but there are jobs that
start at 5:00 on certain days and this is one of them. There were several more
signs of spring’s approach yesterday. Although I was on the flats and not
on Gomer Hill, the tracks of a single raccoon were moseying through the woods.
We also saw skunk prints, luckily not too fresh or we might have had one big old
stinky dog to deal with. Later in the day, I noticed that there is some water
running between the steep snowy banks at Horsey Creek up here on the Hill.
Until yesterday, the creek was entirely covered with snow. It will soon be difficult
to find snow bridges across the many streams on our cross-country ski route.
This is the time of year when the skiing can be tricky, either zippy fast on corn
snow or difficult plodding through sticky snow that gloms onto the ski bottoms.
A little paraffin rubbed onto the base can help with the latter; remembering to
apply it beforehand is the problem. I wonder what surprises today will offer.
(Well, if I knew, then they wouldn’t be surprises...)
Have a wonder-full day,
Daisy

Thursday, February 20, 2003, 7:30 a.m.

20 degrees, breezy, partly sunny, dusting of new snow

There are huge cloud banks moving rapidly from west to east,
ranging from darkest grey in the center to silver-gold around the edges
where the sun is struggling to break through. There is an impressive amount
of clouds in the northern sky as well, but they are more of a dusty salmon color.
They all look exquisite framed by patches of blue sky. This will be a wonderful
day to poke around and look for signs of spring. There is a pussy willow bush
not far from here that is always at least a month earlier than the others,
and I always ski back to it in mid-February and clip a few twigs to bring
inside as a hint that winter is on its way out. Oh sure, there will be a few
more intense snowstorms, even possibly as late as May, but we are definitely
on the road to vernal pleasures. Step outside and smell the air; watch for
signs of renewal, and before you know it there will be a robin sitting
on the bare patch of ground over the septic tank.
Hope springs eternal,
Daisy

Wednesday, February 19, 2003, 7:00 a.m.

23 degrees, gentle breeze, overcast, no new snow

The sunrise is earlier every day and the sun goes down a little later too.
Life at northern latitudes can make mid-winter nights seem endless.
Everyone I know sleeps a little longer in the winter. It is nice to have this extra daylight;
no need to hurry out of the woods by 4:30 lest we be caught in the dark.
The late afternoon forest was beautiful yesterday. We saw a lot of chickadees,
blue jays, and a huge pleated woodpecker circling its way up a tree.
There were plenty of snowshoe hare tracks, and the sign of countless
little four-legged critters who had bounded across the clearings.
It seems like nearly every living thing was on the move yesterday on Gomer Hill.
There is a dampness in the morning air that actually smells a little like spring,
although I know it is just the whiff of sand from the road. True spring is still weeks
(maybe even months) away; it is the promise of new growth and renewal that
encourages us to wait patiently for these mountains of snow to melt and reveal
the first snowdrops and crocuses of spring.
Have a great day,
Daisy

Tuesday, February 18, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

20 degrees, overcast, calm, 1" new snow

The new white cat is definitely a female. She holed up in our
woodshed again last night, and this morning there were several sets of suitor’s
footprints beating a path to the door. Howls of lust piercing the moonlit night
were intermingled with howls of dismay at finding the door securely latched.
There has been a grey tiger tomcat hanging around our property sporadically
since late summer, and he was seen dashing out of the barn yesterday.
The white cat is very friendly and allows us to handle her, purring up a storm;
the tiger is the wildest of the wild, feral to a fault. He was backed into a
corner of the barn one day, hissing and snarling a warning to anyone who
dared to approach him. Two stray cats, two very different personalities.
It takes all kinds, from the trusting and lovable to the suspicious and hostile,
with a huge range in between. What qualities do we cultivate in ourselves ?
What do we look for in our friends? It would be boring if we were all alike...
Be yourself,
Daisy

Monday, February 17, 2003, 8:45 a.m.

10 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy, no new snow

There is a twenty degree difference between yesterday and today at this time
of the morning. While downstate is having one of the worst snowstorms of the season,
the air on Tug Hill is ripe with the promise of spring. Just that small increase in
temperature is enough to bring the birds back into the yard, clucking, chirping,
chortling, and whistling their strange winter songs. It won’t be long before the
bluebirds are back in the neighborhood, scoping out possible nesting sites.
If you have bluebird boxes, it is important to clean them out during February
so that they will be ready for habitation in early March. While the birds won’t
actually nest until late April or early May, the male bluebird will soon arrive to check
out the local real estate. Our boxes are invaded every winter by families of deer mice;
they fill the box with cattail fluff and peek out as we open the boxes during our
Christmas Day ski outing. The little squatters are usually gone by now;
we are happy to provide shelter for them during the harsh winter months.
All of the wild critters are rallying after the bitter cold of the weekend.
Yesterday there were hundreds of tracks in the woods and meadows,
every animal and bird out seeking food, mates, or just plain cavorting on
the fresh snow. We saw a pair of red squirrel tracks making little figure
eights from tree to tree, as regularly spaced as if planned by an engineer.
There were too many deer tracks to be counted, and one hardy porcupine
moved between two trees, leaving the telltale mark of its dragging tail.
This is an exciting time of year; can you feel the promise of spring, in spite of
the eight foot snow banks? Along with the mud and mess that will soon appear,
there is the promise of new growth, new life,
and renewal of our own winter-worn bodies.
Roll with the changes,
Daisy

Sunday, February 16, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

-10 degrees, high thin clouds, calm, no new snow

It was pretty cold on Gomer Hill last night, but not as cold as in the valley.
The stars were out in full force in the early part of the evening with Orion
directly overhead, clearly visible in spite of the almost-full moon.
In spite of the sub-zero temps yesterday, the cross-country skiing was fabulous.
As long as we kept moving, the chill didn’t affect us. There were very few fresh
animal tracks, proof that the wildlife was staying tucked in on such a raw day.
The only signs of life were the parallel troughs left by the skinny skis
of eight adventurous women. The trees made loud pops and snaps as the
sap froze in its tracks, the only sound in the forest except for our shrieks
and squeals as we tackled the steep downhills. I can only imagine what the
bunnies, squirrels, and foxes thought of the wild rumpus that passed by their
dens on the coldest day of the year. Perhaps they freaked out and secured
their entryways with plastic wrap and duct tape... or is it possible that human
beings are the only species that react to perceived threats in such a useless manner...
Enjoy your day,
Daisy

Saturday, February 15, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

zero degrees, gentle breeze, mostly sunny, no new snow

Here is an update on the small white cat that has moved into our barn.
It is probably a young female, and has been accepting our hospitality for several weeks.
It is pure white with blue-green eyes, and very friendly;
we can pet it and snuggle up to it, and the purring that ensues is intense.
One of our indoor cats has welcomed it into the family, frolicking around
the yard with it and sampling food from the dish in the barn.
Our senior kitty has yet to venture outside in this cold weather;
I think she will try to run the new kid out of town. Our dog is too slow to catch it,
but spends plenty of time sniffing the tracks and staring into the barn.
We made the decision to have it spayed (assuming it is a female) and inoculated,
even if it decides to return to the woods after the weather warms up.
Thus, in our small way, we will be helping out the feral cat population
by taking her out of the breeding cycle. The desire to help those less
fortunate than ourselves is what makes us different than the lower animals;
it is what makes us human. Do what you can to help all that share the earth with us...
whether it is animal, vegetable, or mineral.
Practice your humanity on a daily basis;
make a difference, even in a small way.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy

Friday, February 14, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

2 degrees, high thin clouds but partly sunny, breezy, trace of new snow

It amazes me how frequently the landscape changes from day to day in the winter.
As I gaze about this morning from the warmth of my den, I see the dunes and
gullies of the meadows with the crisp morning light reflecting off the high spots;
the low places are shrouded in shadow, and all appears still and quiet.
However, when I step outside to have a quick look around,
the chill temperature adds a whole other dimension to the morning.
My attention becomes focused on my body, the way my lungs pull hard at every breath,
the ice crystals forming in my nose, the awareness that flip-flops are a poor choice
of footwear for a quick trip to the barn. There is a gang of blue jays squawking
insults at a small murder of crows, and several deer are nipping the ends off the
apple branches in an attempt to ward off starvation. There is a blue miasma of
noxious fumes hanging over the ground from an early herd of snowmobiles that has
just streaked down our (closed) road. I can’t get back into the warmth of the kitchen
quick enough. War, starvation, pollution... all in a little microcosm right here on Gomer Hill.
Some things, when viewed from a safe haven, give a false impression of peace and quiet;
upon closer inspection, there is often cause for concern.
Fix the things you can, and accept the things you can’t fix.
Me, I think I will put my flip-flops away until the crocuses bloom...
Have a great day,
Daisy

Thursday, February 13, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

zero degrees, high thin clouds but sunny, calm, 2" new snow

We didn’t see much in the way of snow yesterday,
but to the south of here it was no-man’s land. Route 12 between
Utica and Remsen was devoured by a blinding whiteout, complicated by
the presence of a massive Army convoy on its way to Fort Drum.
Long lines of olive drab and camo vehicles traveling at a snail’s pace,
pulling heavy loads and ascending the hills with difficulty, impossible to pass...
and every so often a snowplow, moving even slower than the convoy;
it was definitely hair-raising to travel on Route 12 yesterday.
The possibility of impending war looming large in the near future was driven home
by the sight of all of those Army vehicles, transporting weapons, ammo, supplies,
and their fragile human cargo to Fort Drum, where they will presumably soon be on
their way to the Middle East. Take a moment to send peaceful energy to the world leaders,
yes, even Saddam and Osama, because the family of man is all in this together.
Stay safe,
Daisy

Wednesday, February 12, 2003, 7:30 a.m.

10 degrees, overcast, very windy, snowing, 4" new snow (so far...)

The fine-grained snow is whipping past the house sideways, except for
brief periods where it appears to be falling from the ground up towards the sky.
There is a lake effect snow advisory for most of Central New York today.
The weatherman predicts zero visibility at times, and sharply dropping temperatures.
Schools have been closed in anticipation of hazardous driving conditions throughout the day.
Make sure your vehicle is stocked with hat, mittens, boots and dry socks.
You never know when you might have to get out and do a little walking on a day like this.
A small blanket is a good idea too;
it is not unheard of for a car’s heater to go on the fritz at the most inconvenient time.
The Boy Scouts had it right; "Be Prepared".
Stay safe,
Daisy

Tuesday, February 11, 2003, 8:00 a.m.

-10 degrees, cloudless, calm, 4" new snow

We are back in the deep freeze again.
The windows of the uninsulated porch are thick with feathery frost,
and today’s sunrise as seen through them was spectacular. The stray
white cat that has been hanging out in the barn moved into the kitchen
woodshed last night, and I could picture it curled up next to the chimney
blocks on such a cold night. We continue to feed it, but it is shy and
won’t let us get close. It appears to be in good health. It is hard to tell
what the gender is; if it’s a tom, it isn’t old enough yet for the typical
tomcat reek to have invaded our outbuildings. Our house cats don’t feel
threatened by it, and our younger one has frolicked with it outside on
the warmer days of the past few weeks. Our senior kitty seems content
to spend these winter days dozing on the couch, and has shown no interest
in going outdoors since the first snowfall. As spring approaches, the white
cat may well be on its way back into the wild. If it decides to stick around,
that will be okay too. In matters of stray critters, it is often futile to try and
make definite plans for them. We can only offer what we have, and hope that is enough.
Bundle up,
Daisy

Monday, February 20, 2003, 9:00 a.m.

17 degrees, calm, high clouds, 4-6" new snow

Even though there are clouds covering the entire sky, the visibility is very good.
The Adirondack Mountains are visible to the east; the Blue Line is quite clear,
made up of the conifers that form the Park’s natural boundary. It is actually
more of a Blue Zig-zag, when viewed from this distance. The rolling hills of
the Black River Valley occupy the southern vista, laid out in layers of diminishing
intensity like a page from an art student’s textbook. Even the clouds in the sky
fade from smoky grey to the palest opal as the eye travels from the roofline to
the horizon. The laws of perspective dictate that things are clearest and most
intense when inspected close up. Distance may help define the larger picture,
with a small sacrifice given to color and detail. Both views are valid,
whether considering the laws of optical physics or the more personal
properties of daily experience.
Enjoy the view,
Daisy

Sunday, February 9, 2003, 8:45 a.m.

17 degrees, hazy clouds, snowing and blowing, 1" new snow

I can’t really tell if it is truly cloudy this morning. It is snowing pretty hard,
and the sky appears to be cloud covered, but the sun is a hazy ball peeking
through in the east. Perhaps there is a lake effect storm cloud hugging this one spot,
letting loose its load of snow, and soon it will be moving on to reveal a beautiful bluebird sky.
Last night at midnight there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
It was clear, cold, and the half moon was hung in the sky like a big boat.
There were a gazillion stars keeping Lady Luna company, with a few slow-moving
satellites clearly visible. Viewing the night sky is a perfect pastime on Tug Hill.
We are not on any major airline routes, and there are very few manmade light
sources to mar the natural brilliance of the stars and planets.
Unusual phenomena like the northern lights are reasons to get the lawn chairs out
and bundle up in sleeping bags, even on sub-zero nights. One of the most perfect
moments of my life was spent watching the Leonid meteor shower on a cold autumn night,
surrounded by family and pets, gazing in awe at the celestial fireworks.

Now the snow has let up for a moment, and I can see that the sky is
indeed wholly overcast with such a thin layer of clouds that the light
of the sun peers through with a chilly brilliance. It is still pretty windy,
but the woods should offer some protection for skiers and snowshoers.
Dress in layers today; it is easy to get overheated while trekking in the winter,
especially when participating in one of the wonderful non-motorized sports.
Go out and play,
Daisy

Saturday, February 8, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

10 degrees, brilliant clouds, snowing and blowing, ?? new snow

Right now we are smack in the middle of a band of lake effect snow.
The amount in the yard varies from zero to six inches, depending on the amount of shelter.
The snow is whizzing by sideways, and it is hard to remain upright on the patches
of bare ice that have reappeared. The yard has fresh canine footprints,
probably from a passing coyote who was making his morning rounds.
The coyotes, coydogs, and feral dogs are quite bold in the winter.
Actually, they probably pass close to the house during the other
seasons as well, but since they leave no obvious footprints during
snow-free months, we forget how numerous they are. There is a
full moon coming up next week; go outside at dusk, throw back your head, and howl.
See if you get an answer.
Have a doggone good day,
Daisy

Friday, February 7, 2003, high noon !

20 degrees, flurries, calm, 3" new snow

Better late than never.
What the heck does that mean anyway ?
In the vast scheme of human experience,
in matters such as toothache, heartbreak,
or dry rot in the sills, never is definitely preferable to late.
Enjoy the rest of the day,
the tardy Daisy Hill

Thursday, February 6, 2003, 8:15 a.m.

10 degrees, mostly cloudy, calm, flurries, ½" new snow

It is a very pleasant morning. The sun occasionally breaks through the clouds
and lends a gleaming polish to the landscape. There has been just enough snow
to cover the layer of grime left by the sanders and snowblower,
but not enough that it needs to be shoveled away.
A sundog just appeared out of nowhere, a vertical pillar of rainbow colors;
there must be frost in the air, each tiny ice crystal prismatically projecting
a perfect palette of hues onto the infinite canvas. There is not much windchill,
and it will be a nice day for a walk with the dog.
Take care,
Daisy

Wednesday, February 5, 2003, 9:00 a.m.

12 degrees, windy, sunny breaks, snowing, 4-6" new snow

The storm seems to be losing a little speed. The roads last night
were not too hazardous thanks to the diligence of the plow crews;
the visibility was very poor and a simple drive home turned into an odyssey.
As I steered onto a side road in hopes of fewer whiteouts,
I saw a turkey huddled up against the bank, his bare head and neck covered in snow,
his feathers fluffed up against the wind. It was an unusual place for a turkey,
so I put on my four-way flashers and pulled over. I thought I could haul him
home him in the trunk, shelter him in the barn until the storm blew over,
then release him into the woods to hang out with the Gomer Hill birds.
He didn’t move in the glare of the headlights, but as I slowly bent over
to grasp his body, he snapped out of his stupor and ran up the road,
over the bank, and into the field. That is the only time I have seen a
solitary turkey in the winter; they are usually in small flocks sheltering in the woods,
or in large groups steadily picking through freshly-spread manure for undigested bits of grain.
Benjamin Franklin wanted the turkey to be the national bird,
symbol of the United States of America.
Let’s all take a moment to think about that...
Have a great day,
Daisy

Tuesday, February 4, 2003, 8:15 a.m.

30 degrees, breezy, raining, ¼" new ice...

Ah, well, this was in the forecast, after all.
Did everyone had a chance to get the snow off the roof before this little event ?
The birch tree in the back yard is bent under its icy burden, and someday
one of these storms might prove too much for it. The first robins of spring
use this tree to survey the meadow for the occasional worm-filled patch of
bare ground. It is the place where the male bluebird perches in March to
survey the area for a mate. In the summer the tree is home to nesting doves
and scarlet tanagers passing through. In October, the branches are full of
bluebird offspring; they dash to and from the birdbath and bid us farewell
before they head south. I admire this old birch tree; it is supple enough to
bow almost to the ground under winter’s stress, yet strong enough to bounce
back as if it never saw one shard of ice. The vast realm of nature provides
mankind with many lessons; some are simple and obvious if we just pay attention.
Roll with the changes,
Daisy

Monday, February 3, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

21 degrees, overcast, gentle breeze, 1" new snow

It is another pleasant morning on Tug Hill.
The blue jays are very noisy this morning, surveying the landscape
from their perch on the tractor. They are silent for most of the winter,
but as spring approaches they have a variety of low chuckles and bell tones,
warming up their voices for the full-on mating calls of March.
They have stripped the sunflower heads bare, and the corn stalks are buried in snow;
I don’t know what they expect to find so close to the house.
The blackbirds that have stayed around all winter have an amazing vocabulary of
whistles and clicks. I think they do it for the sheer enjoyment of the sounds they make.
When I step outside in the early morning, it seems as if they are personally welcoming
me to another new day, a day where anything can happen if we only open ourselves
to the possibilities. When the redwing blackbirds come back for the summer,
they have a call that is described in the birding books as "kank-a reeeee" but to me,
it sounds more like "stay and plaaaaaaaay". Sometimes in our busy lives we fall into a mindless
routine of working, eating, and sleeping, and forget that playing should also be in the mix.
Take some time to do something just for the fun of it today, and every day.
Have fun,
Daisy

Sunday, February 2, 2003, 8:15 a.m.

30 degrees, sunny breaks, breezy, 1-2" new snow

I love this little preview of Spring,
the gentle breeze instead of the bitter biting wind.
If there is a woodchuck hardy enough to dig its way through several feet of snow,
s/he would surely see a shadow this morning. Never mind Puxatawney Phil;
he lives in a cage and gets dragged outdoors against his will on this date every year.
As for me, well, if we ONLY have six more weeks of winter, that would be unusual.
I like the winter months; there are fewer outdoor chores,
more time to read and pursue hobbies and projects,
and invigorating sports to enjoy.
Enjoy yourself,
Daisy

Saturday, February 1, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

31 degrees, overcast, lightly snowing, dusting of new snow

This is the first morning in a long time that I was able to dash out to the barn
in my shirtsleeves to grab an armload of kindling. Even the snow feels warm,
more like the foggy mist of spring than the serious snow of winter.
January came and went in a solid block of ice, no January Thaw this year !
Hello February, month of woodchucks, l’amour, and past presidents.
Yesterday was one of those days where I had a job that started at 5:00 a.m.,
a very interesting time of day in late January. As I drove off the hill at 4:30,
the headlights reflected green and eerie off the eyes of the many night creatures
out foraging. About a dozen deer were clustered right in the middle of the road,
licking salt from the macadam. The barn cats at the bottom of the hill sat quite still,
a whole bundle of cats, but each one sitting alone, independent in the manner of felines.
As I rounded the corner to come onto route 12D, I surprised three feral dogs,
going through the trash left out for morning pickup. (I assumed their wild status,
as none was wearing a collar, and a loving pet owner would certainly keep his critters
close to the hearth on such a winter’s morn.) I saw many more eyeballs during my
journey in the dark, some an inch from the ground, some riding on a taller form;
in a short while, most of the early morning varmints will be skunks, roused from
their winter torpor and out cruising the highways and byways, apparently suicidal...
Keep your eyes peeled for them; to hit one is a disaster for both skunk and car !
Stay alert,
Daisy

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