Posts Tagged ‘snow’
Paw Prints
As a result of the fraction of an inch of snow coating surfaces outside, we get new opportunities each morning to see where all the nocturnal visitors have tread around our grounds. The other day, I found some decent-sized canine prints on Paddock Lake that could easily have been a coyote passing through.
Lately, I’ve been thinking that the neighbor’s cat that practically lives on our property might be polydactyl. This morning there were some very clear prints on the driveway that revealed I was probably seeing double.
What I was seeing in most cases is the result of the hind paw landing in the same spot as a front one. When they don’t align so closely, it becomes much easier to see what’s happening.
What I haven’t been seeing in numbers like years past are hoof prints from deer. Maybe that explains why we saw so few hunters in the woods around us this year. No deer, no reason to hunt.
If the weather forecast proves accurate, we will probably lose what little snow cover we’ve got by the end of the weekend.
Then it returns to Asher being the only one to know where the critters have traveled in the hours before we show up on our morning walks. When tracks are fresh, he becomes maniacally obsessive about urgently following the scent. I don’t remember seeing “bloodhound” in the list of breeds identified by his DNA, but it sure seems like he thinks he is one sometimes.
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His Idea
Asher was insistent. He wanted me to take him outside. I wasn’t interested in venturing out into the cold wind, but Asher persisted long enough to defeat my resistance. When I got out of the recliner to get suited up against the elements, I caught a glimpse of a surprising amount of falling snow.
Really, dog? I’m not sure he even noticed how hard it was snowing. His primary interest continues to be getting to the barn to snatch up pigeons that behave too lackadaisical in his presence for their own good. He has such a one-track mind about catching pigeons lately that he doesn’t seem to notice how many walks we take where I don’t let him go to the barn.
His hope is unfazed. He veers toward the barn at every opportunity until his leash snugs as I continue walking straight ahead.
When we got down by the labyrinth, the falling snow was pretty and it was fun to be out in it.
I took a chance at capturing the fresh snow starting to cling to the tops of the seedheads of the Japanese tall grass, trying to lean with it as the wind swung it to and fro.
A moment later, the precipitation kicked up a notch and I noticed I couldn’t see the barn when we turned the corner on the path around the back pasture fence.
Asher picked up his pace a bit and pulled me along as the thick blowing snow pelted us. Suddenly, I got the impression I was on more than just a figurative expedition. This walk was becoming a literal expedition. I hoped we would make it back to some shelter before either of us perished.
When we reached the mailbox, I grabbed the three envelopes we’d received and didn’t resist when Asher chose to take the driveway instead of continuing along the north loop trail. He picked up his pace again, and I was able to slide my boots a short distance on the icy pavement as he pulled me along.
He let me stop him for a moment as I tried to get a photo of the tall grass by the shop garage, but I don’t think he was happy about it.
“It was your idea to go out in this,” I told him.
“Can we go back in the house now, Dad?”
We made it back to the front door before either of us succumbed to the elements of this blustery snow burst, barely worse for the wear. Thankfully, Asher was much more agreeable about lolling about indoors with me for the rest of the afternoon.
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Forest Labyrinth
With few hints revealing the intended course of our forest labyrinth at Wildwood, Cyndie and I navigated our way around the circles and found the stones in the center undisturbed.
If we want this to remain usable throughout the winter, we’re going to need to place more rocks to define the route for others to see.
I really like that we were able to lay this out so the path winds around mature trees and travels across flat rocks that fill a shallow ravine. There was just enough snow cover to make it easily walkable, but it was tricky to know when we were on the intended pathway.
I liked the way the snow had shaped up around these stones. When I looked at the image on my computer, it struck me how much that top one looked like a baked potato. Didn’t notice that when looking directly at them.
We drove home in the afternoon and found a similar amount of light snow covering our property as there was up north. The horses all looked well and the barn appeared orderly after several days of a volunteer doing the feedings for us.
I’m happy to report, no evidence of mice was found in drawers or bedding in the house at home.
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Stepping Between
When making my way through the swampiest areas of the paddocks, the trick I employ is to choose my steps between the potholes of hoof divots. Where the horse hooves have pushed up gashes of earth, I push the mess back down. When I allow myself to be distracted by the scoopful of manure I’m carrying, a misstep into a water-filled divot delivers an immediate signal from the wetness in my sock up to my brain, reminding me that these boots leak.
We weren’t expecting to wake up to another fresh blanket of snow yesterday morning. It was mostly harmless because there wasn’t that much and it didn’t require any shoveling. By the end of the day, it had all melted, leaving behind just enough moisture to keep things messy for another day or two.
Sunshine is coming. That should brighten everyone’s moods. Maybe kick the grass blades into gear. That would make the horses happy, I suspect. They do an impressive job of finding every spot within the confines of the board-fenced paddocks where new grass is sprouting.
It’s too bad they can’t figure out a way to walk around that doesn’t obliterate the turf that they would love to eat.
In my meanderings around the paddock, I marveled over the difference between places where it appears they must step gently and the surface packs down versus the damage they churn up when stepping with urgency.
At feeding times lately, Mix has been getting worked up in anticipation and for some reason takes it out by harassing Light and Mia. Yesterday she kept chasing them into muddy areas I’m sure they would otherwise choose to avoid. That kicks up an unnecessary mess.
Swings came over and gave Mix a piece of her mind, as if to get her to leave the other two alone. That works as long as Swings stays around. When she moves back to her feeding spot on the other side, Mix ramps her antagonism back up again.
Light and Mia seem to take it in stride, albeit with muddier hooves. As soon as buckets of feed get distributed, everybody calms down and tends to their meal.
That’s when I make my rounds, doing my best to step between all their many divots.
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Changing Skies
It’s been a wild few days of changing skies around here lately. That is rather typical of the kind of weather March would usually bring.
The flakes that fell yesterday were HUGE! The difference from March storms of old is that it stopped snowing before burying us in barely a half of an inch.
At least the wind had stopped blowing. The calm was wonderful.
Only one additional tree toppled over to a 45-degree angle overnight. Maybe an 8 to 10-inch diameter trunk. A scattering of large branches came down, too. When Cyndie returns at the end of the week, I will be able to crank up the chainsaw to do some cleanup lumberjacking on trail seven. [grunt, grunt]
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It Snowed!
Around the time we headed out to feed the horses in the late afternoon yesterday, it was beginning to drizzle. By the time we finished, the precipitation was changing over to sleet. After our dinner, snow was beginning to collect on the ground.
When Cyndie took Asher outside for one last pee, she said the snow was pelting them and it was very sticky underfoot.
I turned on the barn camera to check the view:
Those flakes were falling straight down.
A couple of hours later, the snow was floating around a little more:
At bedtime last night, there was already about an inch piling up on the deck railings. From the way the radar looked at that time, I’m expecting we will have received the upper end of the predicted 3 to 4 inches by this morning.
It was even snowing up in Hayward, where we will be this weekend. Another week after that, the annual American Birkebeiner ski race will happen. It has been significantly modified in length and route due to the snowless winter.
It’s not like a real winter but with any instances of accumulating snowfall, it sort of rhymes with winter for a short time.
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Snowless Sadness
Being a snow lover during a snowless winter is a daunting burden for a sagging spirit. Seeking solace where I knew I could easily find it, I meandered my way through some of my photos from different winters now past. Ahh, those were the days…
They just don’t make ‘em like they used to.
There is always a chance we might experience a blast of snow between now and May. I will appreciate that when and if it happens, but I’m afraid anything yet to come will be too little, too late. For the people who try to earn a living wage by plowing snow for people, selling snow-related recreational equipment, or housing and feeding vacationers who engage in winter sports, the lack of snow is a complete disaster.
I’m just finding it deeply saddening in a multitude of ways.
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Just Enough
We got just enough snow overnight to justify using the Grizzly to plow. It’s hard to tell how much snow fell out of the sky because it was/is windy and some areas are blown free of snow (like the deck railing which is usually a good gauge) and some drifted deeper than what truly fell.
Horses have blankets on in advance of the polar plunge as temperatures are predicted to plummet for the next few days.
This feels a little more like winter for our region. Almost the middle of January and the first driveway plowing of the season. Can’t complain about not being ready, I guess.
Bring on the NFL playoff games and a warm fire in the fireplace. (Glad I’m not playing football outside tonight in these conditions.)
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Didn’t Happen
We somehow got missed by the passing snowstorm overnight Monday. Looking at the radar map from the comfort of our bed had me suspecting we were getting a fair dose of flakes. I figured there would be some shoveling to do at the very least when we headed out to feed the horses.
Much to my surprise, the number of flakes on our front steps was so paltry, there was open space between each one. It was like a cloud had sneezed and that’s all there was to show for it.
That’s okay. With no real foundation amount of snow this year, an occasional few inches ends up being more of a nuisance than anything fun. Plus, since snow didn’t happen, it gave me more time to prepare the ATV for eventual plowing. In my post yesterday, I mentioned that the electric lawn tractor was blocking the ATV and wouldn’t move due to some fault revealed by an error code. I couldn’t even get the drive wheels to release by the manual override that would allow me to simply muscle it out of the way.
Well, a second try proved to be the charm. I’m not aware of having done anything different, but when I tried again to pull the two levers that stretch a spring disengaging each drive wheel yesterday, it worked on my first try. I pushed the lawn tractor out of the way and drove the ATV out.
That success allowed me to hook up the trailer and finish hauling away all the branches I’ve trimmed off in the last month. The north loop pine tree project is officially completed for the season.
And, the ATV is now front and center in the shop garage.
You can see by the photo I took yesterday how much snow cover we have after receiving virtually none from the storm that passed just to our southeast. Weather forecasters suggest a plowable amount of snow is on the way for Friday.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
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Different Shadows
Walking with Asher yesterday I spotted interesting shadows where the overnight snow didn’t land.
Do you think maybe it was a calm night? Yeah. Me too.
Later, coming out of the barn, I looked back at Cyndie and pointed out a bit of a shadow on her jacket from when she gave Mia a dose of medicine from a syringe.
No barn pigeons were involved, despite how it looks.
The full story starts from the night before when we were riled up over Mia’s pain and suffering. In Cyndie’s defense, she has only recently been getting back into outdoor activities and had no intention of spending more than a minute looking at the horses when Mia fell ill with that choke.
Cold, and walking painfully in her winter boot before her incisions have fully healed, Cyndie ended up making multiple treks back and forth between the house and barn. She came down with a syringe filled with a recommended dose of a pain med for Mia and suffered an epic failure to deliver.
Cyndie slid the syringe into Mia’s lips and pushed the plunger to deliver but the tip wasn’t in Mia’s mouth it was against her lip. The fluid of medicine sprayed straight back, covering Cyndie’s jacket, face, glasses, and hat. It was hard not to laugh but her frustrated cursing indicated it wouldn’t be considered laughable until much later.
The good news was that it helped Cyndie decide she had mixed the powder with too much water. She hiked back up to the house to prepare a fresh dose and ultimately delivered that batch like a pro who does this all the time.
Yesterday, Cyndie washed her jacket before heading down to help me with the afternoon feeding. Mia received most of this dose from the syringe but the fresh-out-of-the-dryer coat still took a hit.
I think that’s what a barn coat is supposed to look like, but we don’t always share the same standard.
Mia continues to improve. Yesterday morning we heard one occasion of just two coughs from her but by the afternoon we heard no coughing at all. She looked to be in good spirits and eating well.
We have the herd divided into two pairs: Swings with Mix and Light with Mia. After Monday night’s snowfall, I found evidence yesterday morning that Swings and Mix had walked all the way around through the hay field into the back pasture to approach the backside of the large paddock where Mia and Light were confined without food for the night.
The four of them were hanging out together on either side of the wooden paddock fence. Their hoof prints in the snow provided a shadow of their companionable activity from the night before.
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Relative Something 