Woods Wanderer

I was wrong. I thought the mildness of winter this year would lead to an early spring, but that hasn’t been the case. Here it is the Spring Equinox and there’s still a blanket of snow on the ground, along with temps barely above freezing at midday.

Desperate to get out of the house, I go for a walk anyway. Judy suggests that I walk the access road to Mac’s Bend in the Missisquoi National Wildlife Refuge. It’s not far away. It gets plowed and will probably be clear of snow. She’s right. I leave my car in the parking lot just off Route 7 and walk the gravel track, leaving boot prints in the fine crushed stone between puddles of meltwater. This will have to do.

Binoculars dangle from a strap around my neck, but no birds appear. That too is wishful thinking. Naked trees creak in the light breeze. The brown heads of ferns poke above the snow, ready to reproduce as soon as the weather breaks. A bright vernal sun plays peekaboo in a partly cloudy sky, teasing me with its warmth. I tramp down the road, happy enough to be stretching my legs and getting some fresh air. Still I long for the arrival of spring – promised but not yet delivered.

There are long open seams of water in the Missisquoi River that the road hugs, but Mac’s Bend is completely iced over for some reason. When the road ends there, I tramp a partly thawed riverside trail until it veers into the snowy woods. Then I turn around. I reach down to feel the cold mud underfoot, genuflecting to seasonal change, telling myself that it won’t be long now. But it’s not quite spring.

I know the heaviness of winter within me will eventually melt away, along with the snow, and the winged migrators will ultimately return from the south. But that isn’t happening yet. So I go back home, back indoors, back to work for a while longer. Patience, patience. The cardinals, robins and other songbirds will be calling me out soon enough.

Tags: birding, early spring, late winter, seasonal change, snowmelt, walking

I awoke this morning to light coming through the window, and saw a starling at the bird feeder while I was getting breakfast. After reworking a short narrative about hiking in early spring, I could no longer contain myself. I did the bare minimum work necessary to keep my book business going then flew out the door with Matika’s leash in hand. She came running after me, all smiles.

Temps had reached into the mid-40s by the time my dog and I stepped onto the icy trail at Niquette Bay State Park only half an hour from home. A mile out, I stripped off my light jacket and hiked in shirtsleeves as the dusting of snow on the trail underfoot melted away. Two miles out, the frozen mud began to thaw. It was a wonderful thing to behold.

A crow called out in the otherwise quiet woods. I looked up to see patches of blue in a mostly grey sky. The trees were motionless in the still air. I stopped frequently during the hike just to groove on the snowless forest all around me. It was a wonderful thing to behold.

Is it still winter? Do I dare think of this as the beginning of an earlier-than-usual spring? It’s a hint of spring to be sure, and for that I am grateful. I am a creature of the warmer months. I’ve done enough winter ruminating already. So bring it on! Tomorrow, I hear, is going to be a surprisingly warm day. I can’t wait.

Tags: hiking, seasonal change, signs of spring, snowmelt, spring

As I sit on the side porch, warmed by sunlight beaming though closed windows, it doesn’t seem to me like spring is far away at all. Snow is piled several feet deep in my front yard and around the driveway, but I can see pavement and the icicles hanging down from the roof are dripping constantly. With the thermometer reaching into the 20s, we’re experiencing a heat wave compared to the steady parade of subzero temps last month. That’s encouraging.

It’s March now. The Vernal Equinox is only a few weeks away. And while those of us who have lived here in the North Country a decade or more know better than to start looking for robins, the maple sap should start running soon. Surely that counts for something.

In my driveway there’s a puddle of snowmelt, and in that puddle I see the reflection of a relentless sun. I find stark beauty in that reflection as well as in the craggy, half-melted edges of ice nearby. For those paying attention, and I’m sure the birds at my feeder are doing just that, the early signs of seasonal change are clear. Yes, some nasty winter storms come our way in March, but a big thaw will soon take place regardless.

That’s what is nice about the seasons here in northern New England. Just when you think the heat/cold/rain is never-ending, things change. Nothing lasts so long that it devastates us – not if we pay careful attention. Things change. It’s only a matter of time.

Tags: New England, seasonal change, signs of spring, snowmelt