The deep freeze

A couple of days ago I posted some photos and videos of the snow storm that was bringing the birds in to the feeders in droves and blowing everything around.

Later that afternoon the sun came out and I couldn't resist getting the camera out once more. The sky was brilliant, the road snow-covered and snow glued itself to the tiniest branches and twigs.

It was beautiful, chilly yes, but not frigid.

With so many birds around I should have paid attention, I think the wild world knows infinitely better than we humans what the weather is going to be like.

They gorged and filled and fed.

It was a beautiful winter wonderland. We went out to play in it for quite a while, enjoying sun and snow.

And then it snowed and blew again yesterday. All my many pathways walked with dogs trudging behind or racing along in front of me, were filled in. Driving wasn't much fun but it wasn't treacherous. However that old thermometer was heading down. At five last night it was a nightmare walking with the dogs. My face froze in the cold wind, my fingertips even with a pair of mittens overtop of my gloves were cold. But we did it.

Then last night, the wind died and it was truly magical. While it was cold, there was nary a sound. I could've heard a whisper of owl wings along the river a mile away it was so still when we went out for the last walk of the day. I looked at the sky - luminous! Lady Moon shone softly through the veil of clouds lighting the vast expanse of sky and the snow-blanketed fields below. I stood in awe. Turning round and round staring at how simple the scene, yet how thrilling somehow. I felt as if the dogs and I were alone in a magical world all our own.

Today - it's grey, snow alternating with what? no snow? the finest of snow sprays filtered through a muslin curtain? Then thick linen, or fluffy cotton? I could hardly see my neighbours garage lights at 7 a.m.

We went for a walk - my cheeks froze. My fingertips sang with pain. We brought in a toboggan load of wood, dragging it along another snow-filled pathway... all the paths had drifted over once more.

However the dogs didn't care. The raced around, bouncing as if on springs... I suspect they'd stay out all day. No wonder they were used to haul the mail and pull sleighs along the Labrador coast. So now we're cozy and watching more birds congregate and gossip about the weather, the plentiful seed, how to fluff out even more so as not to feel the cold and where the best spot is to watch for more food or just to stay out of the wind. A female cardinal landed on the deck - not something I usually see. There mustn't be too many feeders around here.

Another week and it will be above freezing again and -25C will be a memory.

Spirit tries to decide which to chase - the red squirrel or the birds perched in the tree above him.

No rant about climate change today - but there is no doubt these elevator temperatures are caused by it. And they say that Canada is going to allow the oil sands (used to be called the tar sands - I guess they thought that was too "dirty" a word) to expand... Six times the amount of C02 we'll be putting in the atmosphere in a couple of years, more from these projects than the entire US puts out... something to do some serous thinking about.

Hope you enjoyed the photos of winter in our part of the world - and are enjoying yourself wherever you are.

Be careful what you wish for

This morning when I opened the front door in the dark, the front steps were covered in snow. Aha I thought, I did wish for snow yesterday. Seems like I got it.

Of course the dogs ran out and rolled, wiping their faces first and then shoving a shoulder deep and then flopping onto the three inches or so - not a lot for this area, but a lot for an overnight snowfall. Great white fluffy flakes were coming down, blowing in from the east. I joined them, pulling on my boots and filling two feeders with seed and putting it on the ground for the little ground birds. Much to my delight as daylight just began to reveal the arrival of all kinds of birds, the male cardinal showed up. Since his mate had been taken by a hawk, I haven't seen much of that beautiful fellow. Of course when I found my camera he was gone. But nice to know he's visiting now and then.

The snow is now fine, hard to see, but it continues to fall. So shortly I'll be taking two very happy mutts out for a romp. I may not be driving much though because it looks as if the roads haven't been ploughed. I saw the trucks yesterday laying on the slip-preventive strip of chemical on hills. So while I was moaning yesterday, this was not unexpected.

A goldfinch a redpoll tackle the niger feeder - I don't often photograph the birds that use this one but the redpolls and chickadees are regular visitors.

This morning on the deck there is a pair of dark eyed juncos which I haven't seen before. Perhaps they have been part of the gang of sparrows, house, tree, white-crowned, or have just arrived from further north.

In any case I am delighted to have had my wish granted. And really hope that you get what you wish for as well. It makes life so full of magic and hope don't you think?

Walking in winter

It was sunny when we started out. We drove into town, with me mentally moaning about the brown everywhere, thinking how cold it is and why didn't we have snow to go along with the cold winds - at least then it would be a more real winter.

We did the shopping including buying some liver treats for dogs and cats, suet and bird seed for you know who, (not the turkeys!), dog and cat food and assorted other necessities. Then I decided that I'd drive by the wood lot on the way home and the dogs and I would go for a walk. It was such a beautiful day.

Such is the way of weather, that by the time we got to the wood lot it had clouded over. However, it still seemed like a good idea. So out of the car jumped the dogs and we started off - when I realized that perhaps I'd made a mistake.

Wearing my "Sunday go to meeting" boots, not my normal rubber boots for walking in wet, I'd not thought this through. On our wee property, the land is frozen where we walk. There are iced over puddles and the wee fish pond has frozen once again, the aerator creating bubble patterns like the finest crystal in the centre.

Stepping carefully along the road allowance in the wood lot - and then along the pathway, densely blanketed with leaves, I crunched my way along, avoiding as best I could where the dogs paw prints obviously said "water here, mud over there." The puddles and freshets had not frozen very deeply.

The pathway sounded like crackling twigs but in reality it was skims of  ice under the surface of the leaves, but not deeply into the ground. The entire walk I watched my feet and didn't stop for my usual meditation, or quiet look around at the beauty of the bush lot. Even with no snow it was lovely I determined with the odd quick glance around. The heavy sift of leaves, many coloured browns and beige was broken by splashes of acidic green - mosses unphased by the cold, stretched lovingly over the sides of roots and stones as if to keep what was beneath it warm.

Suddenly the sound of my crunching feet was broken by hysterical barking. As I got closer to a huge beech, up one of the smallest limbs imaginable, I saw this enormous raccoon staring down at me.

"What are you doing letting these devilish dogs loose in MY woods," it seemed to say as it stared at me, not the dogs, while clinging to a stem I thought couldn't possibly hold it.

I trudged on, determined to make a truncated circuit but make it I would, to give the dogs a good run...they run in this woodlot far more than anywhere else we go for walks. The dogs, much to my surprise, grew quickly bored with the creature up the tree and ran off ahead of me.

Closer to evening we were doing a circuit of our pasture. The second walk of the day. The dogs trotted or walked ahead of me sort of lacklustre. Then Bliss took off like a shot - I watched in surprise - what was he after? Suddenly he was face down in a snow drift - bottom in the air, tail wagging enthusiastically rubbing his head, ears, nose and chin turning it again and again, as if he was wiping his face the icy remains of the drift. Aha I thought - that's what they were looking for today. Snow! The dogs love it as much as me.

And tonight we've been rewarded. As I type this, a fine drift of snow is hardly visible in the air but my deck is turning white. Real winter has returned. I said my thanks to the winter gods.

I know some of you will think I'm simple minded to love the snow. But we all have our likes and dislikes - and the wonderful changing seasons in this part of Canada is one that I find blissful. I hope you have something this evening or tomorrow that makes you feel blissful, or at the very least enjoy. And make a wish - you never know it might come true like mine did! I think there's magic in the air.

Did I jinx myself?

A couple of days ago when I finally could get on the internet, I posted some photos of geese basking on a mud flat in a nearby bend in the river.  It was about 15 degrees C that day.

This morning at 7, I looked out my front door to this! -4 and wet blobs of snow.

And it continued to come down, wet and heavy and chilly, but not as cold as the full day of rain yesterday.

I looked out the window as the day grew brighter, still snowing, and the boughs of trees bending low.

Really low.

And then the sun came out around noon and the valley gleamed with a new white blanket covering everything, including the north side of tree trunks and all branches. We'd been without hydro for several hours since seven, and the sunlight on the snow seemed like "Lights - Camera - Action!" Brilliant and shiny.

Later in the afternoon the dogs and I went to our favourite little piece of wood lot where the owner lets us roam at any time of the year. It was like walking into the forest in the Chronicles of Narnia...everything was still covered in snow, the branches of huge trees coated with about three inches of white and the small trees which had been wet when the snow blew through, bending low. It was a lacy fairyland of glitter with black trunks lined on their north sides with white. The sun shone through the branches in many open spots, but the snow was so thick in some places - even 80 feet in the air on twining branches - that it shaded everything below. Blue sky peeped through small openings and all was still.

Except for a lone crow, who hated its rest being disrupted by the sound of big paws and my rubber boots and let me know it loudly, it was quiet, peaceful. The snow that drifted off the trees, crystalline bits floating gently down, landed silently. It was magical. Beautiful and magical.

What a treat!

Here's hoping you get some treats soon too.

That was a short spring!

So much for spring!

Yesterday the winds were so high I nearly got blown off my feet and had to hang onto the car at one point. But walking with the dogs in a field protected by woods, it was pleasant - warm even.

Today back to reality!

It's too blowy and snowy out there this morning so I grabbed an image from a year ago, to show you what the front will look like if the sun shines again  today

It has been an extraordinarily gray winter.

In did notice however that the mourning doves are grateful for the seeds this morning and yesterday I was able to shovel up buckets full of wasted seed and put them on the edge of the field for the rabbits.

On our walk, the dogs rousted a huge hare - I've never seen Bliss run quite so fast. He was about ten feet behind the bunny when it went over a hill and out of sight. It was five minutes before both dogs returned, tongues hanging out. They collapsed soon after, glad to catch their breath in the back of the car.

So it will likely be cold for another few weeks, but definitely spring is in the air. Can hardly wait.

Stay warm and safe today.

A winter morning

Around 9 o'clock yesterday morning we went out for the first walk of the day.  The snow plow was working hard at the junction of the two county roads that bound my property. The dogs checked under the west feeder for The Dread Red (the family of red squirrels that plague them constantly).

It was cold - and it had snowed on top of the mushy icy stuff from the day before. The pathways were slick underfoot with the six inches of fluffy stuff, but it was beautiful.

The sound of bird wings  - that flit-flutter-flutter-flit - and bird song as they chatted among themselves after the plow went back up past the church where I live, were the only sounds to be heard for several minutes.

I stood drinking in the sights and the sounds. It was so still, only a few flakes gently drifting to the ground. I turned and saw the sun gleaming through the clouds to the south making the snow shine as it was caught like winter decorations in the pine needles.

I inspected all the spots the dogs had investigated, brought in some wood for the fire and checked out the surrounding countryside.

A truly beautiful winter morning, one to savour and remember over a steaming cup of coffee when I returned from my amble around the pasture.

My wish for you is that your mornings are truly beautiful and memorable as well.

And once again a snow day

Two pals, Christopher my black cat and Bliss my yellow lab, watch out the deck doors from my studio. They both spend a lot of time looking out the doors watching. Christopher is allowed up into the loft and so looks out the church windows there as well.

This is what the boyz are watching - but I think Bliss is hoping to see the Dread Red. The little birds are just a few of the flock of about 50 and often more birds that frequent my feeders all winter. The little birds as I call them consist of goldfinches, nuthatches, juncoes, American tree sparrows, English sparrows, house finches, sometimes purple finches and of course the ubiquitous chickadees.

The little birds gather on the railing and this small bird feeder, made to look like a bakery, as well as feeding from the deck on the seeds that I throw there or that the larger birds - blue jays and woodpeckers as well as mourning doves toss onto the deck as they search for the best ones.

Bliss won't last long before he's pawing or lunging at the door after the squirrel or begging me to take him and Spirit his brother out. Yesterday it was sunny and I got onto the snowshoes (thank you Bill - www.wildramblings.com -  for your recent reminder on how and when to use them) and tramped all around the pasture. But of course that was yesterday and as you can see from the photo above - it's snowing again - and may tomorrow as well. I'm going to have to brave the snow-covered roads. Christmas is way too close!

Hope you don't have too much snow wherever you are (You especially Mindy who hates snow but loves Christmas - mindymilburn.wordpress.com) so you can get out and finish up Christmas tasks or get to work and home again safely and easily. Enjoy the day!

Another snow day

Spirit (black) and Bliss (blonde) help me feed the birds on another snow day. We went outside about 7 which accounts for the darkness - it's still not completely daylight at that time. Both dogs watch for the Dread Red - the family of little red squirrels that have taken up residence underneath my house and torment the dogs daily by getting into the trees from the feeder faster than the dogs can reach them. I watched one day while a baby ran back and forth under the eaves for about five minutes until it finally lept into a tree, down the trunk and into a hole it knew about but the dogs didn't. Always something going on outside around here it seems.

As you can see it snowed last night. This image of the drive shed (where the original pioneers used to "park" their horses and buggies when they went to church - actually it's only half the size it was in 1870 when it was built) shows how the northeast wind has blown the snow around and up sealing it against the wooden wall.
Snow now covers the clematis vines  hanging onto some netting I'd nailed in place, as well as one of the bird feeders, all the shrubs and dead flower stalks with seeds still on them... and it continues to blow. This was taken from inside my "studio" around 7:30 this morning. Currently there is a mourning dove nestled out of the wind  inside the big feeder on the deck which my cat Eleia uses as her house and hiding place when the weather is better. Other tiny birds try to get seeds, digging them out from the deck where I've put some or where they've fallen from another feeder.

7 a.m. - Outside filling the feeders, and Bliss continues to look for the Dread Red, that naughty little red squirrel has the entrance to its home under my front entry about five feet from where Bliss is standing.

The snow has covered bushes and shrubs that I had cleaned off a couple of days ago to keep them from breaking. This won't be so easy because the snow started as rain and freezing rain yesterday. Tree branches and bushes are bending low under the weight of snow.

Two feeders - suet and seed - on the west side of the church which is my home, hanging in a Scotch pine. It's branches  touch the ground. The snow has blown up about two feet around the trunk and the Blue Spruce tree's lower branches are once again covered. I'll have to go out at least twice today to fill the feeders since the birds are having a hard time finding seed on the ground, it keeps getting blown in.
Many roads and schools are closed and no school buses are running anywhere in three or four counties. It's supposed to continue for another two days.... A typical Georgian Bay three day blow!
I'm staying inside today as much as possible. It's cold out there! but not as cold as my friend's home in Igloolik where her neighbour's home had its wall and most of its front door removed by a bear yesterday afternoon. Now that's winter scary.

It's a snow day!

These images speak for themselves.
It's been snowing most of the night, and the birds were at the feeders early.

From the front

On the deck

Into the fields beyond - the dogs will love it - the birds will be well fed, and with the fire on I'll enjoy it too.
Have a great day yourself!

Outside, inside

Outside - it's snowing this morning and it seems like at least a hundred goldfinches and their colleagues are visiting my feeders - this one on the deck, the two on the east and the one on the west sides of my home. There are also several birds at the nyger feeder in the birch tree on the south near the front door - getting their fill of thistle seeds.

Eleia, the calico cat has decided to abandon her vigil in the huge bird feeder on the deck near the one shown in this picture. The wind is blowing and it's a trifle cold out there. She's perched inside on a window sill behind the computer, watching the action from there. Christopher, the black cat, has gone to curl up in a chair by the fire. Birds are too much trouble for him. I've seen them land at the dogs' water dish on the deck, just beneath where his head is hanging over the edge of the chair he's chosen to sleep in. He watches them from a foot away, but never moves. The birds seem to know he's know threat - Eleia? They see her they bolt.

Inside?

These beautiful hibiscus blooms make me feel warm and cozy! Bright and cheerful on a gray chilly day.

It's that time of year

We had snow the other day - just a bit on my deck, enough to leave its imprint, but about an inch up on top of the "mountain." It's that time of year.

The geese have been flying south regularly - the true migrants up high, in huge vees, like the one here, with only the occasional call. The southern Ontario group which a biologist friend of mine calls the Ontario residents, and comprises at least 50,000 Canada geese, flies from farmers' fields to the river, to a local pond, out to the lake and back. They have a set routine it seems and hang about wherever there is open water.

Of  late Georgian Bay - which used to freeze solid in this part of the Bay, and right around the whole south end up through the east side and north around Manitoulin - doesn't do that anymore - we have open water pretty much year round. Global warming we've been told. That the waters are receding and the Bay is becoming quite shallow revealing all kinds of rocks and shoals fascinates and sort of alarms me. I've heard that it's because they dredged Lake St. Clair on the Detroit River and made a huge hole for the water to spill into. I've heard that the US has an agreement to divert water from the Great Lakes into the Mississippi River - an agreement that has stood since the late 1800s. I've heard that a sink hole that is bottomless has developed in the lakes. And I've also heard that its part of a natural cycle. Hmmm. Who/what to believe?

Whatever it is - in the fall the geese flying in formation signal - to me - the end of summer and the approach of Jack Frost. Last year we didn't get any kind of snow other than a dusting until mid-November and then we got three feet over a couple of days. The geese remind me to stock up, bring in the wood for my woodstove, get some water into big jugs in case of a power failure and make sure the leaks around the windows are sealed.

And the geese also remind me, with their haunting cries, that they are traveling - I wonder where they go - those that fly so high up and hardly utter a sound? They catch wind currents also heading south and often hardly seem to have to move their wings. That ignites my wanderlust. It also makes me wonder what others think or feel when they see a flock of high flying geese. Do they see them at all? Do they wonder where they are going too?

Lots to think about on a gray fall morning.