Posts Tagged ‘February thaw’
B’bye Snow
After two days of 50°F temperatures during this final week of February, the snow has performed a quick disappearing act. Just four days ago, the American Birkebeiner ski race was held for the full distance in Hayward, WI. They lucked out with a couple of periods of snow falling in the nick of time so they didn’t need to shorten the race. Then, on the day after the main races, the warm weather moved in.
Our hay field at home now looks like it did back in November. Afternoons are becoming a muddy mess in the paddocks. At least I won’t get my quilt-lined Carhartt overalls dirty. No need to climb into our space suits this week. Heck, I haven’t even needed a coat in the middle of the last two days.
I watched a broadcast of the Minnesota Wild hockey game last night, and the commercials for Northland Ford and Toyota all-wheel drive vehicles to combat the snowy winter conditions looked rather comical, given the reality outside now. They could have been selling more motorcycles than trucks and SUVs.
Even the natural world is looking confused by this warm spell.
This furry little woolly bear caterpillar was slowly making its way across the driveway. I guess hibernation ended early this year.
It’s almost like the climate is undergoing a change or something. Ya think?
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Warming Up
We added a few more degrees for our daytime high temperature yesterday, and it is beginning to feel pleasant for an afternoon stroll. Before Asher and I stepped out for a sunny explore, I was looking in on the horses via the camera and finally spotted Light lying down for a deeper rest.
As soon as she laid down, Mia decided to join her. They didn’t stay down for long, but every little deep nap is beneficial.
All that high sunshine made quick work of cleaning up the pavement of our driveway.
Sunday is forecast to be the first of three days with temperatures above freezing, so I expect we will see more than just the pavement emerge from the meager blanket of snow cover that has accumulated so far this year.
Enough days have passed since the last snowfall that the traffic pattern of the horses is easier than ever to discern. It is also easy to see where wildlife is traveling on our land. These tracks move across our fence line like it isn’t even there.
I once watched a deer pass between the wires of our fence without slowing down, and it didn’t even cause the lines to vibrate. Even though I witnessed it happen, I don’t see how it is possible. I don’t recall whether we had the fence energized at the time or not, but if they don’t touch the wire, that’s not going to make a difference anyway.
I sure am glad I’m not trying to make a living off of winter snow activities. It’s going to feel like shirt-sleeve weather in a couple of days.
We are looking forward to not worrying about the waterer in the paddocks freezing up for a while. I will also appreciate the wetted grain not freezing to the bottom and sides of the feed buckets.
It’s going to feel like spring is coming, but I do not want to entertain false hope. The month of March has a reputation around here of frequently being the snowiest month. I will remain cautiously optimistic, yet I may also pump air into my bicycle tires just in case the riding season gets off to an early start.
Anything that puts -30°F wind-chill temperatures out of mind will be warmly welcomed. (See what I did there?)
[in Beavis or Butt Head voice] Heh heh. He said, “warmly.”
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Slow Slide
Life for me on the ranch is slowly moving away from needing to be Cyndie’s primary caretaker toward our usual partnership in life’s adventures. Her recent advances in regaining independence, by way of driving again, allowed her to attend a gathering of some of her friends and to spend an overnight with another which granted me a little time on my own.
I found an entirely forgettable shoot-’em-up cowboy movie to watch last night that she wouldn’t have enjoyed.
It was the first time I have been truly alone in the house for over a decade because we no longer have any indoor pets. Of course, I miss Delilah and Pequenita but it would be misleading to imply I don’t love the freedom from the responsibilities of tending to them.
The warm February weather has restarted the snowpack’s slow slide from the shop/garage roof. In the shadow of late afternoon yesterday, I saw that a chunk had fallen to the concrete apron below.
This morning, the crust on the snow was frozen enough to support my weight as I pulled broken branches out of the pine tree that suffered the most damage from one of the heavy snowfalls. There were a LOT more branches than I realized.
The tree looks a little worse for the wear but not as bad as I feared. I plan to trim the remains of the broken limbs back to the main trunk. Don’t know if that will make it look any better, or not.
Yesterday afternoon there were hunting dogs roaming our woods and howling off and on between scrambling around with their noses to the ground. These are from the coyote hunters that patrol the area and as such, are always a welcome sight. From my vantage point, it looked like they were roughly following the usual traffic pattern of the elusive fox that roams this area. That doesn’t mean the coyotes don’t travel the same pathways, but I’ve yet to catch sight of those ghostly predators.
At least I’ve seen and have pictures of the fox.
Never did hear any gunshots so their level of success yesterday is unknown.
It feels like we are on a slow slide toward the end of winter. Knowing full well that doesn’t mean we won’t experience more winter weather in March or April, I am holding back on any wild plans for our landscape post-snow.
I’m just going to lean back and enjoy riding the slide.
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Winter Lull
We are enjoying a pause in the harsh, cold winter temperatures this week. It truly is a welcome relief for those of us who have to do things outdoors every day no matter what the weather is like. Hanging out with our horses, cleaning up around them, and feeding them, I get a very good sense of how much more at ease they are now that we’ve come out of the latest blast of extreme cold.
Those wicked cold mornings have the horses looking so stoic as they stiffly brace themselves against the stinging bite of the frigid air. They do very little moving to conserve what little warmth is lingering under their winter growth right up to the moment they prepare for the delivery of their feed pans by romping about, running, and kicking to jump-start their circulation.
In contrast, their lack of stiffness yesterday morning energized me. The horses radiated a feeling of ease and contentedness that stood out more than usual because of how different it was from just days before.
There has been a lull in snowfall for many more days than the cold temps, and the snow in the paddocks is getting thoroughly beaten down as a result. It remains deep enough in the fields that they have barely ventured beyond the fences but there are some tracks out there.
It’s unclear to me how many of those footprints are evidence of new activity or old tracks emerging as sunny afternoons have started to shrink back some of the coverage.
Yesterday afternoon, I lingered for a long time, leaning against a gate to watch their activity after they had all finished eating from the feed pans. They were just being horses with no urgent agenda.
It made me want to be a horse along with them —a horse during a warm spell on a February day.
When it’s cold again, I want to be a human living indoors.
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Like Marchruary
Is it possible that you are able to see that this image was taken when the temperature was below zero on Saturday morning?
It is a reference for the next image that I shot yesterday afternoon.
That outdoor temperature of 45°F was in the range of average for the month of March, not February. Both Delilah and I wanted nothing more than to just be outside in the warm sunshine.
I offered to brush her multiple layers of hair out on the deck, flashing a bag of tasty treats as periodic reward for her cooperation. The only cooperation she offered was to sit down every time I neared her back legs so that I couldn’t be the least bit effective.
It became a game where I offered a treat to buy more time and she would soon after, sit down so I would feel the need to offer another treat to get her up again. I didn’t get much brushing done. I switched focus to tossing some discs for Delilah to chase in the back yard.
She pretty much wanted to sit down after only a few throws of that exercise, too.
I think she is starting to feel all of her nine-and-a-half years of age. Average age for a Belgian Tervuren Shepherd is 10-12 years. She is starting to act as if she is getting old.
My next attempt to make her feel young again was met with complete disdain.
I made a snowball out of the sticky snow and started rolling it down the hill. When it got big enough that it was difficult to push, I stopped and looked up to find her completely ignoring me.
When I decided I didn’t have any interest in making a snowman out of my giant snow boulder, it occurred to me that I was feeling my ripe old age.
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Warmth Visits
We are enjoying a welcome break from the harsh depths of the gripping cold that commanded all attention for the previous two weeks. Cyndie said snow and ice sliding off the roof throughout the day created startling noises that jostled sensibilities. Delilah would react with equally startling barks of her own in response.
Walking our trails in the winter, one clearly experiences the dramatic influence the snowpack exerts in holding the temperature down. Think: walking the frozen foods aisle in an otherwise comfortable grocery store. There is a noticeable chill. Walking our trails in the winter when the air temperature rises above freezing is like walking on a refrigerated carpet.
The cold radiates up from below, overcoming the natural order of cold air falling low.
The two pictures above were captured by Cyndie on Saturday as we drove to Pepin. The bottom one could almost be interpreted as being over water instead of the snow that was really there.
Or, maybe that just a reflection of my response to the visit of this February thaw.
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Melty Mess
Two days of consecutive hours above freezing have turned our snow cover to a goopy mess. It’s a real mental challenge to reconcile the dramatic difference between the polar vortex deep freeze last week and the balmy meltdown that occurred over the weekend.
This is how the surface of the snow looks now:
It’s a lot more like April than a day in February.
On the bright side, we haven’t had a single snowmobile buzzing down the trail that runs along our neighbor’s property on our southern border this year. Makes for a much more serene outdoor experience, despite all the other hazards we’ve faced.
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Relative Something 