Winter Birch

On the days that the clouds move in and the sun remains hidden, it seems to be a monochromatic world out there. The evergreens look more black than green. Shades of gray abound. It gives me a bit of an idea of what it must feel like to be colorblind. But if this current color scheme means snow is in the air, I'm okay with that. We did get a few flurries today, though they were very sparse. Still, each flake adds up. I was again helping Greg, and he had me pulling nails from some boards. As I did, I could see little snowflakes on the wood. One had all six points and actually looked three-dimensional. Amazing little delights.

It's been a little over a month now that we have had decent measurable snow. In looking through my photos, I came across a couple that were taken on November 14th. It was our first big snowfall, and though we tried, the roads were not in decent condition for us to make it in to church. We came home, and decided that a walk in the woods was in order. So we headed up the Loon Lake Road, and then took the Border Route Trail spur that led back to the South Rim Trail. Since it had been cleared in October, we knew that it would be in good shape.

The hiking required close attention to our feet, but it still didn't stop us from taking in the beautiful scenery around us. The trees were heavily laden, thanks to the wet snow. As we went along, we noticed several birch trees that still had many little twigs and branches on them. This was noteworthy because, ever since the blowdown, we have seen a huge decline in the numbers of healthy birch trees. One school of thought is that the lack of shade (from all those trees that went down) caused the ground to receive more sunshine. That in turn warmed the soil more than the birch were accustomed to, and thus, they were tending to die off. To see healthy ones in this patch of woods was certainly good news.

One in particular caught our eyes. Greg identified it as a yellow birch. Most of what we have here are white, or paper birch. The yellow birch seem to grow larger, and the bark on them is much rougher. The one that we found most fascinating had twisted bark. It rather reminded me of a cedar tree.
I think that I will have to make a trek back up to that trail in the spring, so that I can see how this tree is doing in a new season. It will definitely be easy to spot.

Ice Fog

The view out the window this morning included ice fog when we first got up. The majority of the landscape was totally white.....No sky, no horizon, just white. I hadn't seen fog since sometime in October. It has a surreal quality when it is not its usual gray color. About an hour later, it had mainly dissipated, leaving behind a bank in the far north sky. In its place, the sun came out to highlight the frost on the trees.

The camera that I use is just a regular Sony point and shoot digital. Sometimes I wish for something fancier, so that I could capture the way the sun twinkles through those icy crystals that adorn each branch. It really is true that snow and ice can sparkle, but it is next to impossible to record that in a photograph. Still, I tried, by taking photos of two of my favorite trees.

I think of this aspen as the raven tree, since it is one that the raven pair will often sit in throughout the summer. It was also the home to the flicker family earlier this summer.

And a beautiful white pine....no words needed.

Glimpses of Ice

After two nights of sub-zero temperatures, I felt pretty safe walking on the ice right in front of our property this morning. It is such a neat feeling to be on that super hard, super cold surface that just a week ago was so wild and wet. Ice walking is one of my favorite winter past times. Today there was no wind, lots of sunshine, and miles of clear ice--with just a wee bit of frost on it for traction. Unfortunately, there was no time to be out strolling, as the list of tasks remains long. I did, however, grab a few moments with my camera to see what I could find.

At first glance, the lake looks completely white, with many interesting shadows crossing it. Because the winter sun travels so low in the sky, the trees cast some very tall shadows from shore. When I pause to look more closely at the ice, there is a miniature world of art at my feet. The frost crystals have grown to make up that solid white color I see, and each little shard helps to complete a bouquet of feathery images. It's pretty amazing that these tiny pieces can collectively give the impression that the lake is covered in snow.

I used my boot to push aside the frost, hoping that I might get an idea of how thick the ice has grown. All I could see was black, which is a good sign. That indicates solid strong ice. Without the dimension of a crack or two, it was not possible for me to guess at the depth. It was a lovely picture just the same.

Near to shore, I saw this white ice with its own little clusters of crystals. So many of the photos I've taken this month have a natural blue hue to them. I liked that this one was mostly whites, in varying shades. So many surprises out there, waiting for my eyes to see them.

A Sunny Day

The sun came out today and lit up the lake with brilliant color. Too bad my camera can't capture it! Earlier this month, I said that it was my wish that it would snow everyday. That mostly came true before the lake froze. We missed out on the big blizzard that hit southern Minnesota. But nearly every day, we've had at least a bit of snow falling. The truth is that some of it could have been flakes induced by all the steam that was rising off the lake. Still I count it as snow, since it was white, flaky, and landed on all of the other similar stuff on the ground.

But today it was clear and cloudless, so I knew that it wouldn't snow. It was a gorgeous day, nonetheless, with a temp that started at 15 below and never made it above zero. Since a good friend is here right now to help Greg, I was free to do whatever I wanted to. I chose to bank snow around the base of Tamarack cabin. When I look out the window in cold weather and see the furnace exhaust constantly, it motivates me to do whatever I can to try to insulate that cabin. The exposed foundation needed some protection, and there is plenty of snow to work with right now. So I grabbed the shovel and went to work.I scooped snow from the deck and the ground around the cabin, and then tossed it up against the cinderblock foundation. Each shovelful added to the mound growing around the base. I was aiming to get up to at least the first course of logs, and with some steady work, I was able to achieve that. It quickly became apparent that I had overdressed for the job, though. I took my jacket off and found that my thick alpaca sweater was enough to keep me warm while shoveling, even though it was still ten below. I was impressed with that sweater! My mind wandered to the useful nature of snow, and what a good job it does to keep us warm, even if it is naturally a cold thing. Here I was, working up a sweat, and that same snow was going to keep the cabin warmer. Have you ever seen the photos of little cabins in Alaska, practically buried in snow? All that warmth around them! Wow. I'd love a winter that gave us enough snow to bank the cabins up to the windows. That would be the epitomy of the saying snug as a bug in a rug.

While I keep an eye on the sky and weather report for the next snow event, the deer have started to migrate through our property. These little ones were nosing their way by one of the cabins yesterday. They don't mind at all if people are ten feet away, as long as there is wood and glass separating us. Now that the lake is frozen, my eyes constantly drift out there, looking for wolf activity. Tonight is supposed to be well-below zero again, so that should thicken the ice some more. I expect well be seeing wolves again soon. In the meantime, I'll settle for a pink sunset, another nice bonus of this time of the year.