Posts Tagged ‘snow’
White Stuff
Overnight last night, we received more of that white stuff from the sky. Probably enough that I will feel justified in firing up the Grizzly ATV to plow the driveway. Our other grizzly took on a shocked look at the latest batch of precipitation.
Possibly because the earlier flakes got covered with an icy drizzle. It created a crust over the surfaces that was just enough to make walking annoying because it caught the toe of my boot every few steps. There are enough trip hazards in our landscape that I don’t welcome the addition of any more of them. I’ve noticed a demeaning increase in my tendency to hit the ground over the last few years when my foot catches on unseen obstructions.
For some reason, those occasions are matched by an equivalent increase in F-bombs taking flight in reactionary shock.
The horses look like they stood out in the weather all night and then rolled around to get as wet and icy as possible. There is probably a word for the blocks of packed snow that build up and then get ejected from the bottom of their hooves. They are scattered everywhere around the paddocks. The series of days with this slowly accumulating snow at the temperatures we’ve had seems to keep the conditions right at the level that is prime for these to form.
Asher and I picked a spot to position the trail cam (which has been in storage [with batteries still in it. Boo!] for too long), hoping to identify what animal has been using an old downed tree trunk in our woods for its toilet. My scat-identifying skills have me thinking it looks like either a human or a dog as big or bigger than Asher. In reality, based on likely creatures traveling in that part of the forest, it’s a coyote, fox, or really large raccoon. Whatever it is, the amount of scat reveals this is a regular occurrence and not just an animal that happened to be wandering past.
There were no tracks in the fresh coating of white stuff this morning, so I didn’t check the memory card for images. New tracks in the snow will tell me when it’s time to check. You can be sure I will provide a full report as soon as we get some results. Heck, you’d think the tracks would give me the information I need to identify the culprit.
I’m about as good at identifying paw prints as I am with scat.
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As Expected
The National Weather Service warnings were spot-on for our area yesterday. Asher and I headed out for the morning walk into the snowstorm, fully prepared for the worst. It wasn’t the most difficult of conditions we’ve faced, but it was challenging. My legs got a good workout trying to keep up with Asher as he pranced through the snow with little in the way of extra effort.
There was just enough snow to make my trudging in stiff boots much less efficient.
The horses looked like they had chosen to spend the night outside the protection of the overhang despite the heavy precipitation.
There was enough snow blown into those spaces that it probably didn’t matter either way. The wind was blowing from the wrong direction for the overhang to provide its best shelter from the elements.
I spent much of the day plowing and shoveling. Got the driveway cleared just as Cyndie was pulling in, which was nice for both of us. The road didn’t get plowed until late afternoon. It knocked the mailbox off its base, which surprised me. I thought it was dry enough snow it wouldn’t pack such a punch.
I guess not everything went as expected.
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Nuisance Amounts
So far this winter (even though winter solstice is still nine days away), we have only been receiving what I call nuisance amounts of snowfall. It’s barely enough to justify shoveling, yet too much to leave on steps and walkways. Last week, when Asher and I got caught in that epic snow-burst, we couldn’t see the barn. In the end, so little snow accumulated that it was all gone two days later.
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Yesterday morning, I spent a few minutes clearing the driveway closest to the house with a shovel.
I like having the cleaner pavement, but that minimal covering of snow isn’t enough to deserve firing up the ATV to plow, and I’m not inclined to push the shovel the rest of the length of the driveway to the road. I saw the township plow go by on our road, so I carried a shovel when walking Asher. That big blade didn’t throw up enough snow to make any difference.
I shoveled what little there was anyway. So now the top and the bottom of our driveway are cleared, and the middle is just a series of tire tracks and footprints until we get enough sun to evaporate whatever snow remains.
Since the temperature was forecast to drop precipitously overnight, I made sure the horses had plenty of good hay to stoke their internal furnaces. They are decidedly picky about one of the batches of bales we’ve been trying to use up on them, and they regularly ignore any amount that we mix into the hay nets. I chose to dump some of those dregs out on the ground where we are building a hay path for traction in advance of future icy conditions. That way, I could fill the bag exclusively with hay they prefer.
What’s the first thing that happens?
Mia comes over and starts eating the hay I dumped out.
I don’t blame her. Free of the netting, she can dive in and more easily scrounge out any desired nibbles mixed in with the stringy grasses she doesn’t like. She probably thinks of them as “nuisance amounts.”
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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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