Cold January

Winter waited until now to arrive.

It caught the birds by surprise.

They were loafing in the unusual warmth of December, 

feasting on all the weeds we'd left to go to seed.

Then the snow came.

 I filled all the feeders.

Birds were flocking in before I'd even finished.

 They weren't all into sharing -- see the downy woodpeckers facing off?

 The gate froze shut.

Even when the sun came out today,

it was still a great time to spend inside looking out.

Snow mistake?

Dear Dr. Hausfrau,

 When I posted a picture of our first snow day, you asked

"Where is the snow?"

This dusting was nothing like your Wyoming snow.

Honestly, it was enough snow for us.

We didn't really want any more,

but it kept on snowing.

And snowing.

Some days it didn't snow, but it didn't melt either.

The snow piled up and the temperatures went down.

We searched the depths of our closets for our long-unused ski woolens.

We are not really prepared for -11 degrees.

It has been snowing today since before daylight.

Clearly a mistake has been made.

We have accidentally gotten your weather .

Please take it back where it belongs.

Thanks,

TL

Walking on Ice

Actually, literally, walking on ice...

there had been a flood before Christmas.  The water had covered the path at Bean Blossom Bottoms.  By the time we went out to hike, everything had frozen solid.  That path?  Scary slippery.
We kept hearing crashing off in the frozen meadows and woods.  Some big animal, it sounded like, maybe a bear or a woolly mammoth.  Every time I'd jump and look --nothing there.  Crack, crash, crack, crash.  It was the flood, you know, it had inundated the low lying areas up to two or three feet, then the surface froze.  And then the water under the ice cover drained away --and there was a sheet of unsupported ice, just ready to crack and crash when the winter sun warmed the surface.  We listened to the ice, to a full murder of crows, and to the silence of the marsh morning.
Took my new scope to look for birds.  A downy woodpecker here, a flock of sparrows there... not too exciting.  I packed the scope away and just as we were ready to leave...

something moved on the old eagle's nest in the distance.  Grab the binoculars, unpack the scope -- it's an eagle!  Warming up in the morning sun, turning this way, turning that way, giving us great views --and then flying away into the woods with great sweeps of its huge wings.

Worth walking on ice for!

Another snowy day

When I went out to fill bird feeders this morning the sun was just beginning to come through the trees.

 There were deer tracks through the deep snow.

 My own tracks from yesterday afternoon were half full of snow.

 They say it was only 7 and a half inches.  I think it was deeper than that, at least in parts.

It was up to the middle of my calves, and hard to slog through.

There is ice underneath, and a funny looking depression where my feet slid out from under me.

Bird seed flew everywhere.

Granddad decided that it was lovely to watch, but he didn't mind being INSIDE today.

A case of life imitating art

This past week I set up a display case at the library.

It was inspired by several things :  my Litt'l Brother's story about seeing a great-horned owl, which reminded me of the wonderful book Owl Moon;

and by this cute little owl that HoosierKitty gave me at Thanksgiving.

I discovered that I have one of those inadvertent collections, by which I mean that I seem to have a number of Owl puppets, toys and figures that I didn't consciously collect and you shouldn't give me any more.

It was a snowy display, set up on a foggy day when the temps were almost 60 degrees.

The very next day it began to snow.

There are birds out there this morning.

It's still snowing.  We're going for a foot or so of snow.

I'm just waiting for the Owls to appear.

The ice snake

Help! The house is being swallowed by an ice snake!

See those sharp fangs?

They are getting longer, sparkling, drops of ...venom?... dripping - wait! There goes one!  

Yay, sunshine!  Melt that ice snake away!

Now really, isn't that more fun than worrying about ice dams and leaky gutters?

Wish I had them everyday

If you go out after a blizzard to feed the birds..

it is good to have useful companions to help you.

Especially if they are willing to shake snow off the trees so the limbs won't break

and if they don't mind getting a little snow in their socks.

Counting up: 1989

Now we arrive at one of our most memorable Christmases:

The Brown County Cabin Christmas!

We removed ourselves to this isolated spot high on a hill top.

There we had a cozy living room with a fire in the the fireplace and grandparents in comfy chairs.

We had a compact kitchen and the fun of creating meals with what ever we remembered to bring along.

Fortunately that included strong coffee.

There was a dining area with a fine table for meals...

or for games.

Huggermugger was never so much fun as it was there.

We brought in a tree and made decorations of cut-out paper snowflakes and strings of popcorn and cranberries.

Upstairs we had our pick of bedrooms of various sizes and shapes, each with a different but excellent view.

and we had snow!

Remember those skis we got last year?

There were four pair, so we swapped around and went out cross-country four at a time.

Might have slipped and gotten snow covered once or twice...

but eventually we mastered the skill.

The weather was perfect for hiking up and down the hills. 

(Yes, one of these people is walking backwards.) 

 And we took all the usual present-opening,
meal-eating,
party-happening,
people-together
pictures that you might expect.

Winter-Time

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, 

A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;

Blinks but an hour or two; and then,

 A blood-red orange, sets again.

 Before the stars have left the skies, 

At morning in the dark I rise; 

And shivering in my nakedness, 

By the cold candle, bathe and dress. 

 Close by the jolly fire I sit 

To warm my frozen bones a bit; 

Or with a reindeer-sled, explore 

The colder countries round the door. 

 When to go out, my nurse doth wrap 

Me in my comforter and cap; 

The cold wind burns my face, and blows 

Its frosty pepper up my nose.

 Black are my steps on silver sod; 

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; 

And tree and house, and hill and lake, 

Are frosted like a wedding-cake.

Robert Louis Stevenson (from A Child’s Garden of Verses, 1885) 

December 22: The Shortest Day

Thursday, December 22, is the official first day of Winter.

The Solstice occurs just after midnight.


You can find the scientific explanation here.

In fact, if you are reading this blog with your young children, you might just go on over to timeanddate.com
and continue talking about the longest night and the shortest day.

For everyone else, here's a poem for the beginning of Winter.

First let me remind you of the well-known round in Middle English that begins: "Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude sing cuccu!  You can read the rest of the lyrics and hear it sung here)
With that in mind, here is Ezra Pound's poem, "Ancient Music"

Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damm you; Sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.

Slog on, good friends,  through the long winter's night.

There are only two more posts to Christmas!

It's not the camera

Picture is not taken with black and white film. It's not a grey-tone print.It is a grey-tone day.

She has bats in her...

Mimi called. Could I come over? Something to take a picture of. Something she found in the back bedroom.

"I think it's dead," she says.

"Hibernating," I say.
It is very still.

Hanging by one tiny toenail.
Mimi has a tee shirt to wrap around it. This would mean somehow unhooking that firmly snagged toenail.

I suggest that we just take down the curtain and carry it outside.

You know the saying, 'easier said than done'? Yes, well, Mimi's curtain rods are very securely screwed in. Tools are needed.
I finally get the rod unscrewed... and notice the tiny body is now quivering.

By the time we carry the curtain outside it is clear that the little bat is coming to consciousness.

We leave him out in the cold to unhook himself and we retreat to the kitchen and a cup of hot chocolate.

Later we look. He's gone.

"Cats" says Mimi.

"Back in your attic, " I say. "Call me for the next time he comes around."

Where are the snows of yesteryear? In my albums, of course.

When it snows what do I do? Run out and take pictures of snow, of course. It's just so decorative.
It doesn't matter that I also took pictures of snow last year...

and the year before.

In fact I have hundreds of snow pictures.

Some show familiar places looking unfamiliar in snow.

Or looking especially picturesque in snow.

I keep trying to get a really good snow picture.
I realize that this impulse to photograph snow is probably inherited.
My Dad took snow pictures too.

Here's one he took of me in Charleston in 1950 in the snow.
He wasn't the only one.
Here's snow that his sister photographed in 1961 in Louisville.

And here's a picture his father took of snowfall from around 1939.

I look out the window at the still lingering twentieth snow of this overly snowy winter.

I think: all the snow in all those pictures is long melted. Only the image remains.

I put away the camera.

This too shall melt, I say.