Posts Tagged ‘snow’
Between Season
Every day this week, on my way home from work, I’ve seen more and more exposed ground due to receding snow cover. Twice, on the way into work, I have driven through new falling snow. This time of year, those light snow showers don’t add much to the snow pack, so we have continued to lose more than we’ve gained.
Cyndie’s daytime view of melted snow
The days have only offered a spattering of minutes where the sun shone through enough to cast definable shadows. The rest of the time it has looked pretty gray outside, and not very conducive to melting much snow. It hasn’t mattered. Forces are at work to create a mystical disappearing act of our snow.
It feels very in-between seasons. We are certainly not getting anything that looks like the winters we have been known for, and we have yet to see enough sunshine to want to put the top down on the convertible and go for a joyride. The snow and ice is no good for winter sports. The dryer ground and inviting warm sunshine of springtime have yet to arrive.
So what are we going to do? We’re gonna head to the lake. One of our favorite house & pet sitters announced her availability for this weekend and we are taking advantage of it to make a rare visit to Big Round Lake. With friends Mike and Barb joining us, we will be exploring creative ways to enjoy the outdoors at a time of year when most of our usual activities are unavailable.
I guess it’s not all that unusual for me to be taking pictures, and that is something for which the ‘between-season’ actually offers extra opportunity. Around home, I keep seeing some amazing natural art where leaves and other dark debris laying on top of the snow will melt intricate outlines of their exact shapes as they make their way toward the ground, multiple times faster than the rest of the snow around them.
I have yet to capture any good photos of this phenomena, because the depth that is a huge feature of the visual is very difficult to convey in the limitations of a 2-dimensional image. The live perspective we get through actually seeing for ourselves is worlds beyond what a lens can offer. Of course, that makes it all the more enticing to want to try.
More significantly, I haven’t gotten any good pictures yet because I have been finding them too late, after I have tromped all over the place and kicked snow on the potential candidates.
So maybe it will be a weekend of photography. That, on top of the always incredible good eating we enjoy, the lounging around a fireplace, and the playing of a few card games while listening to music.
I’m finding myself also between the season of wanting to dig into any real projects that produce worthy results. I’ll save that motivation for a warm and sunny spring day, just in case one of those finally shows up.
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Not Hot
This is one of the not hot compost piles in our paddock. Not much in the way of decomposition happening there. Maybe that will change this weekend when the mega-melt of February is expected to arrive.
The frozen compost piles aren’t hot, but the temperature of the air will be. Add a chance for some rain in the mix and our lawn may become visible by the end of the weekend.
Mud season!
I suppose I ought to think about getting the garden tractor tuned up and ready for battle.
This early warmup in interesting, but warmth at this time of year is a fickle thing. One moment it feels all summery and promising, and a day later we could be socked in by a foot or two of heavy, wet snow. Do. Not. Remove. Winter. Accessories. From. Your. Vehicles.
The odds of needing them stays high through the first week in May around here. I’m inclined to wait until June before finally choosing to store them someplace safe, where I will never remember to look the following November when I am desperate to scrape frost off a windshield again.
This past Monday, the horses were enjoying the last hour of our increasingly longer daylight while I was tending to the frozen manure pile closest to the barn. I have a sense that they are going to enjoy a warm spell, despite the messy footing it promises to provide.
With their coats still winter-thick, I expect it may feel downright hot to them.
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Mysterious Shriek
I was already on edge Wednesday night, after the close encounter with the traffic fatality earlier in the day, so the blood-curdling wail that arose in the darkness beyond the bedroom door to the deck easily startled me out of bed. It was around 10:30 p.m. and the mysterious cry that began surprisingly similar to the sound of our teapot on the stove actually had me questioning how the water could possibly be boiling at that hour.
The distressing shriek just kept going like a siren, causing both Cyndie and me to climb out of bed to investigate. I grabbed a powerful spotlight that I keep next to the bed for just such occasions, and scanned as far and wide as limitations of view allowed.
There was no sign of any activity, even as the suffering victim continued to scream. It was chilling. There was no pause for a breath. I was wishing the predator would just finish the job and end the misery. It lasted somewhere between one to two minutes long.
I strained to get a sense of the distance, or any other identifying impressions. The sound seemed to move away and then come closer. I wondered if it was airborne. Did an owl grab something? What would react to attack by emitting such a piercing cry?
I didn’t trust my senses enough to feel confident about the apparent movement. Maybe it was just resonating in a way that made it sound like it was flying around. Since it was carrying on for so long, I had time to step outside for a better vantage point.
Are you kidding!? I wasn’t about to expose myself to whatever savage beast was out there in conflict mode. Well, actually that’s exactly what would have happened, since I was “dressed” for bed at that hour. But what I mean is, I wasn’t going to put myself at increased risk by stepping outside into the darkness, not having a clue what was out there.
When the sound finally ceased, we climbed back under the covers and I pretended I could fall asleep, despite the rambling thoughts of what the heck just happened outside. Soon we were both wondering out loud about what animals, both the predator and the prey, were most likely responsible.
I asked Cyndie to give the area out back an extra search in the morning to look for tracks or signs of a fight. She found no evidence whatsoever. George was over for dinner and cribbage last night and he suggested that the screaming was probably a rabbit, and the attacker could have been a coyote or fox. That I believe as easily possible, but if they were under our deck, I don’t know how they got there without leaving tracks somewhere.
The rabbits are plentiful around here and Cyndie did find a super-highway of their tracks in our woods. She took this picture for me to use.
We’ll have to watch that spot and see if there are one less sets of footprints showing up from now on.
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Too Warm
I was not entirely prepared in my mind for the temperature to be as warm as it was yesterday. It turned out to be the second day in a row with temperatures around 40° (F). Regardless, I decided to take a crack at pulling the groomer behind the ATV in the morning.
I did a little research to learn what time of day might be the best for grooming. Naturally, I found results for both early morning and end of the day. It hinged on how much trail use could be expected to occur afterward.
Basically, desired results require an overnight of sub-freezing temperatures for the groomed snow to achieve a firm set.
When the sun came up high enough to light the day, it revealed a thin glaze of ice on all the surfaces. I held half a hope that it might provide a crust on top of the snow that would help my cause.
I was much too late for that by the time I made it outside. In fact, the moment I finally stepped out the door, I bagged the idea of using the 4-wheeler, because that glaze had become nothing but wetness.
I took Delilah to the side yard and worked on splitting some wood.
Then Cyndie came out. With her support and encouragement, I changed my mind and decided to give the ATV a shot after all, while she occupied Delilah.
My suspicion that it was too warm was confirmed, but I forged ahead anyway. I was able to coax the ATV forward after I got stuck the first time, but not the second time. I unhooked the pallet/fence panel and turned the Grizzly around.
Hoping to break down a path to eliminate the stopping points, I revved my way back in the direction from which I’d just come, then turned around and covered the same ground a third time. Next, I hooked up the fence panel again and tried a grooming pass, one last time.
It was a mess, but I learned enough to be satisfied this will work nicely when done frequently, soon after snow falls, and doing so from the very beginning of the snow season.
Yesterday was too little, too late, and just plain too warm.
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Grooming Trails
In response to a suggestion from George about making a trail groomer, I dug out a piece of goat fence and a pallet to see if something that simple might do the trick.
Not wanting to leap all the way to the commitment of trying to navigate the 4-wheeler through the deep snow we now have, I decided to test it using my own two feet.
The results met my expectations. It can be done on foot, but it was a LOT of effort after the short amount of time when my muscles wore out. In the end I was spending more time stopped for a rest than I was moving forward toward my goal. Using the ATV will be much easier, but I will need to plan to hit the trails early and often in the snow season, to develop and maintain a packed base to drive over.
There are a few corners where it will be tricky to negotiate the dragged groomer around trees, and I will need to plot a route that doesn’t involve backing up, but I think I can come up with solutions.
The effort to drag a groomer behind the ATV is different, but not significantly less than the effort of hiking the trails several times on snowshoes. The main advantage of the ATV is that more ground can be covered in less time.
However, since I enjoy snowshoe hiking, I find the extra time it takes to walk all our paths multiple times brings me a lot of pleasure.
The primary advantage of using snowshoes is ease of mobility. I can quickly and easily make intricate maneuvers to establish paths with sharp turns and short routes.
I expect the long-term version of winter trail maintenance will always involve a combination of the two. I envision establishing a perimeter circle that I can easily drive with the ATV, with a few options connecting the labyrinth and the back yard to a couple of the easy trails toward the barn.
In addition to that, I will snowshoe the routes from the house to the wood shed and Delilah’s kennel, and a few paths through the woods that are intentionally too narrow for machines to drive through.
We should be able to have the best of both versions.
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Photo Fun
When I was shoveling snow off the deck, I spotted my reflection in the mirror in our bedroom and decided to try a self-portrait. It doesn’t adequately capture what it looked like in person, but I like how it turned out anyway.
I finally got around to plowing the area around the barn and hay shed yesterday, after the storm last Tuesday. When I got up early on Wednesday to plow before going to work, I only did the main run of driveway, from the house to the road. After a prolonged exercise of back and forth on the ATV, I parked it and picked up the snow shovel to finish and clean up edges by hand.
While I was running the ATV, the horses watched me from a distance. Once that ruckus was over, and the only sound being made was the repetitive scrape of my shovel, they no longer showed a need to keep an eye on me. The sun was winning the battle of breaking through the clouds and it seemed wonderfully cozy for a winter day.
I glanced up toward the horses and they had all disappeared to the ground. In the time I fumbled to get my camera out of a deep pocket, where it was staying warm next to my body, Dezirea had finished a thorough snow-bath and returned to her feet. The others weren’t down much longer than her, but they all had a nice few moments of total relaxation, sunning themselves in the fresh blanket of powdery snow.
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Good Thing
Activity in our kitchen is back to normal, now that Cyndie is home. When I walked in the door from a day at work yesterday, my nose was greeted by a simmering ham roast in the slow cooker, two side dishes baking in the oven, and a fresh loaf of home-baked cranberry/orange/walnut bread and plum crumble dessert cooling on the counter.
George was coming over for dinner. I went to start a fire in the fireplace, but noticed we needed to bring in more firewood. That meant I would need to shovel a path to the firewood rack on the deck.
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The food Cyndie prepared was fit for serving a royal feast. To heck with counting sugar grams or total calories. I ate it all, and then some.
We enjoyed dessert in front of the fire, where we lingered long while pondering the fragility of mental health in a wandering trail of tales, eventually feeling as if we had gone full-circle and discovered connections in otherwise seemingly dissimilar situations.
There is always hope possible in times that seem hopeless. If it is not easily available for the grasping, it can be cultivated, when the essential willingness is on hand.
It remains to be seen whether the hopes and remote support seeds we planted will produce desired results in the long run. In the mean time, the fine food and fellowship we shared and enjoyed was a heck of a good thing for the three of us.
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Snow’s Here
I drove to work in the morning yesterday on wonderfully dry pavement and then left for home a couple of hours earlier than usual, when the snow storm started to make an impact. The trip home took about twice as long as usual, and involved several instances of crawling along at 35-40 mph on snow-packed roads.
I am not complaining. I was very lucky. One of the first spots where I encountered a lot of brake lights was on the I-94 bridge over the Mississippi near the University of Minnesota. Just beyond several cars ahead of me, I spotted a vehicle out of the normal position in line. Closer inspection revealed it was facing the wrong way, but moving to correct itself to get reoriented while everyone else waited.
In a blink, we were all on our way again, and as I passed over the spiraling design made by the tires of the small SUV, I was shocked that no other cars had been struck. That spinout covered all 4 lanes of traffic, yet no damage was done.
During the rest of the trip home, I only saw two scenes of the aftermath of multi-car crashes surrounded by flashing lights of emergency responders. Both instances were in the lanes coming from the other direction, and the backups I endured were merely a function of people slowing to gawk.
The worst part of the trip was when my “Check Engine” light came on again, after almost a week of thinking we had solved that mystery. After replacing two different sensors, we discovered the fuel filter was long overdue for being changed. It seemed like that had done the trick, until today.
I drove straight to the shop and they checked the code. Same message as before. I had them reset the warning light again and plan to see how long it will go this time, before I turn it over for more experimentation.
I have other things on my mind right now, like clearing mounds of snow from paths, doorways, and one long driveway. I put a little of the old acquired knowledge to use last night and went out to plow the main driveway in the middle of the storm. That way I will only have half as much snow to clear this morning, before I venture out to see how the roads are.
Hoping I will be able to average a little more than 35-40 mph today.
Here is the driveway, before and after, as of about dinner time last night…
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The view out the bedroom door…
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Cyndie Returns
How smart are dogs? Ours picked up on my activity right away when I got home from work yesterday. Sure, I dropped a few verbal hints that Momma was coming home, but I think she could tell by the way I was putting furniture back in place and converting my temporary man-cave back to our shared living space.
Cyndie has actually returned a day earlier than her original plan, due to the winter storm that is expected to be in full swing this afternoon, around the time her flight was supposed to arrive. She moved it up 24 hours and arrived without hassle last night, making the drive from the cities on dry pavement.
At one point last night, I found Delilah standing with her nose up against the door to the garage, clearly expecting it to open any minute. Maybe she heard something. I don’t know about that, but Cyndie was still over an hour away at that point.
It was a pretty fun reunion when Cyndie stepped in the door. Delilah was incredibly happy, almost as much as Cyndie.
We have had enough warmth recently to melt most of the snow off our driveway. I took a picture to use as a comparison to what it will look like after the 8-12 inches of predicted new snow stops falling.
I’m going to stay at work as long as possible today, hoping to head home before snow accumulation begins to create traffic backups. Unfortunately, they have moved up the time that precipitation is expected to start to 9 a.m. today, so driving could be impacted long before the afternoon rush hour.
If the depth of snow and strong winds lives up to what is being forecast, there is a strong possibility that I will stay home from work on Wednesday.
All these possibilities are a lot less stressful for me now that Cyndie is home.
I think Delilah feels the same way.
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Nuisance Flurries
The weather of late has been a repeating series of nuisance snow flurries that irk me. We get just enough in the way of accumulating flakes that it makes the place look neglected, but hardly enough to warrant plowing or doing any serious shoveling. A few days ago, it became necessary to clear about 6 feet around the door to the barn, because it was blowing into an accumulation that was twice as deep as what actually fell from the sky.
Last weekend I scraped the driveway clean to freshen things up, and then Monday night we collected another inch, just to mess it up again. When I got home from work yesterday, it became evident that we received a little more during the day, making it just deep enough that I felt it needed to be plowed.
While waiting for a ride to my favorite auto repair shop, I shoveled the sidewalk and cleared snow away from the house to simplify the details for plowing later.
I was getting my car back from the shop, where they had changed another sensor in the catalytic converter to get everything working properly again.
After walking Delilah and taking care of chores for the horses, then pausing briefly for my dinner, I was ready to do some plowing.
I brought Delilah outside with me and tethered her near the shop while I cleared snow around the building as the ATV warmed up. It was dark, so I couldn’t easily see whether Delilah was happy with her situation, or not, but I decided to plow more than just up and down the driveway a few times.
Getting around the barn and hay-shed require a lot more monkeying around than just the straight shot running up and down the driveway. It becomes a series of short distances forward, followed by lifting the plow blade, shifting into reverse, re-establishing a position, and then dropping the blade, shifting back into a forward gear, and repeat.
I can do the driveway in about 10-minutes. The rest takes about an hour.
I made Delilah wait. It was easy to justify in my mind, because I fully intended to treat her to an extensive walk before we went back into the house. I don’t know whether she sensed it, or not.
After parking the ATV, I donned snowshoes and hit the trails with the dog. She immediately set off after what I would guess was the trail of a cat. She was in such a hurry that she almost pulled me over several times when my snowshoe would catch partway through my stride.
I’m glad we were doing this in the dark, so nobody could see my awkward stumbling gyrations as I struggled to keep up with our dog in her race after some prowler that was probably already long gone.
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Relative Something 