Winter to summer in three weeks!

As the sun began to set and we started out for our late afternoon walk, I looked up at the snow-covered hills across the valley. Everything was blanketed - there were two plus feet to wade through in the pasture at the beginning of March. I hauled out my cross-country skiis, and my snowshoes and had a great time with the dogs who love to bury their heads deep into fluffy white drifts, snuffling out moles and mice scurrying through their little tunnels.

Then the weather grew suddenly mild. March break! Would the kids holidaying from school have enough snow to enjoy?

Sunrise on an early March morning - a beautiful glorious morning. But I was outside in my slippers and dressing gown to take the photo, and not one bit chilly. Oh oh.









I turned around and looked at the garden a few feet from the edge of the road... bits of snow, but more bare spots

And there, poking their noses through winters remains - tiny patches of white crystals - were daffodils. No mistaking those yellow tipped noses.

And this morning, amidst the remains of autumn leaves I'd used to cover this flower bed in front from winter's freeze-up: three crocuses bloom, a mini and two original size as daffodil blossoms swell on long stocked necks. The temperature at 1:30 in the afternoon is a hot 87.8 or 31 C in my driveway that's baking in the sun.

This is not normal. Others though say they remember back in the '70s when we had a winter like this... Summer in the middle of March in central Ontario? Goodness.

So while I'm enjoying the warm weather and the chance to get into my garden, I wonder what the rest of what used to be spring will be like. Temperatures are forecast to be summer-like for the next two weeks. What will happen to local apple farmers if blossoms and bees aren't on the same timetable because of the heat? My two largest silver maple trees are in flower - not unusual for late April early May - but to me it seems at least a month or more early. Is this the result of climate change or just an anomaly?

Nothing I can do I know. Except enjoy it for what it is and make the most of these lovely days. And hope...

Tiny migrant

This tiny creature delighted me last weekend, when it caught my notice in the yard by landing with its scarlet body and wing marks on an echinacea seed head. I searched the internet for information on dragonflies.

Apparently it might be a skimmer - Ondonata family - and possibly a migrant. The photograph doesn't do it justice - it's body was brilliant crimson in the sun - and the flashers - what I call the markings on its wings similarly red and shiny. It did not appear to be afraid of me for when I got within about a foot of it - it just twitched its eyes looking back at me - when I would move its eyes would follow the movement. Needless to say I was fascinated.

National Geographic has done a story on dragonfly migration and there is tons of information. There are some 400 members of this species, but not all of them migrate.

From National Geographic: Only about a dozen of the approximately 400 known dragonfly species are believed to migrate, journeying from the northern U.S. and southern Canada to the southern U.S., the Caribbean, and Mexico each fall. Scientists believe these migrants' offspring then return north. 


To get the details, a field team has been fitting green darner dragonflies (Anax junius) with radio transmitters. The National Geographic Society funds the work, which is being led by Martin Wikelski, a professor of ecology and evolutionary biology at Princeton University in New Jersey.

Wikelski and colleagues attached the first tags in September. The field team is currently tracking the insects as they make their flight south along the Atlantic seaboard.

The transmitters—which weigh 0.01 ounce (0.3 gram) and are about 0.4 inch (1 centimeter) long—are glued to the insects' undersides. A single wire antenna runs the length of the abdomen, and a tiny battery powers the device for up to a week.

Wikelski has a receiver that picks up the transmissions within a range of about one mile (one and a half kilometers) on the ground and five miles (eight kilometers) in the air.

As a pilot, Wikelski is able to put the receiver in his plane and follow the insects.

"It's important to do it from the plane, because they move so much," he said. "From the ground it's almost impossible to follow them."

Now I don't know about you - but I find all this quite fascinating. Then yesterday when walking the pups in a field to the north east of my place, I saw about a dozen of these little red insects flying around, protected from the wind and settling on top of centaurea seed heads or alfalfa blossoms in the hay. These ones however didn't wait and watch as my friend in the garden did... they quickly flew away. So I guess mine was either tired, or friendly. Whichever, I wished at the time I'd thought to take video of its eyes moving around - obviously watching me. Amazing what this blog is teaching me about nature.

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(Please forgive the delay in getting this posted - my computer or my "high speed" have been playing tricks and I've not been able to post anything for quite a few days... most frustrating. Then when it was finally ready yesterday somehow I hit the wrong key and the entire site disappeared. I gave up at that point.)