Snow and Chickadees

While I don't know if it is here to stay, it sure looks good on the ground! The snow fell in big flakes, floating down from the sky, just like a storybook. The ground is cooling down, so that helps the snow hang around for a while. It's been a stretch since I can recall snow in early November, with the mixed up seasons we've had the last few years. Though some of us aren't quite ready, I am happy to see this.

It does mean that I need to be more diligent in keeping the bird feeder filled. Mostly we have been seeing our usual chickadee friends, and the rose-breasted nuthatches. I've also seen the white-breasted nuthatch almost daily. He comes swooping in so fast, I have to look twice to see if it really is him. Then he flies off right away, to go stash his seed somewhere.....I saw him stuff one into the big cedar tree by the workshop recently. I didn't realize that birds hid seeds away like that.

Yesterday, Greg rescued a chickadee that had hit the window. He fetched the little one and brought her in to the lodge where it was warm. He held her for a while, and then the bird started to flutter her wings, as though she was ready to take off. So Greg went out to the porch to release her, but the bird just sat in his hand. They came back inside, and then repeated this procedure a second time. This time, once outside, the bird quietly sat on Greg's hand and closed her eyes for a little nap. So he came back in and put the bird into a large empty flower pot, and give her a little hot Andouille sausage for a snack. Evidently, this was just the thing to wake the bird enough, as she started fluttering for freedom from the pot. Greg picked her up, once again stepped out on to the porch, and for another few moments, the bird still sat in his hand. Then she must have decided that she liked the menu outside better than the one posted inside, as she quickly took off.

Now that we have a bit of snow on the ground, we'll be able to see animal tracks more easily. One of the fellows who so diligently plows the roads up this way told me that he has seen many wolf tracks in the gravel pit by the Cross River. One day, he noticed tracks from a young moose, and then he saw tracks from a wolf. He didn't follow them to the ending, but he said that he expected that the moose probably didn't make it out of that one. I sure hope that we get to see wolves this year in the numbers that we did a couple of winters ago.