Better with Snow

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Walking out in the field recently has meant crushing the ice-covered grass stalks. I kept feeling like I was killing it, the fragile stems breaking under my boots. But now we have snow! It feels like we have had a hundred days of gray skies and damp air and chilliness. Dreary. Usually I take whatever weather comes. Complaining about the weather is a bit annoying, I have to admit. Why grumble about something that can’t be changed? I have been a bit more sympathetic lately, however. All that gloominess.

However, this past week has brought snow. It snowed heavily for a while–that beautiful white stuff falling to cover the brown and gray. It makes everything lighter. Even at night the world is brighter. Our boots don’t smash the grass but plow through the snow instead. It feels gentler, softer, quieter. The world around us is covered in beauty. The bareness of winter has its own beauty, for sure, but this is magical.

I have been thinking lately of what to plant in our garden. Now it is covered in snow so it will be a while before I can turn the dirt and sink in some seeds. But January is the time to dream of spring. Rosemary and thyme still grow in that cold soil. Last night I had to dig through snow to cut some thyme springs. Hard to believe it is still green. It made a difference to dinner. I managed to plant garlic in the fall and that sleeps, waiting for warmth. And there are all those empty beds to imagine full of plants–tomatoes and carrots and pumpkins and potatoes. What new varieties can I try? It is about time to order some seeds.

The trees are covered in snow. It falls now with more on the way tonight. It does not have to be much. A dusting is enough. Maybe fairy dust is really just snow. The Snow Buntings came back last week. They have been flying around the fields, although they have yet to discover the seed I keep leaving on the ground for them outside our windows. They are like fairies they way they float and appear from nowhere. Snow I tell you–magical stuff.

Squirrely Weather

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It was way too mild for a while. Warm, no snow. Even rainy for several days. That is pretty lame when it comes to winter. Last week I drove to Rhode Island for a couple days. Of course it snowed then. It was not a full-on storm but it made for some slow going. Then it cleared and snowed for me again on the way home. When I got to Bolton on I-89, close enough to home to think I would be there soon, traffic slowed, then stopped. Car off the road? Some slipping and sliding? Hard to tell as it was too far beyond the long line of cars ahead. And so I waited. And kept waiting. We all inched forward a few times but mostly just sat there. A few people got out and walked around. One guy stood on his roof to try to see what was ahead. Another guy walked down the hill to take a leak.

A flatbed came up from behind and so everyone pulled to the side to let it pass. Then another came, led by a state trooper. And we waited. I have no idea how long I was there. I did get out to stretch once. Luckily I had gotten gas and some coffee back in Barre, so I was pretty set. Eventually we did get moving and I finally passed a pickup getting pulled onto one of those flatbeds. The thing was completely burnt–fire ate it right up. Another car was on the other flatbed, front end all smooshified. I found out later that no one was hurt. That could have been bad.

The weather has been seasonal since then. Yesterday and today were cold and windy, like way windy. I went to the lake both days to look for wintering ducks. There was surf at the Charlotte Beach and again today at Chimney Point, waves crashing on the shore and throwing spray. It was hard to stay out long. I was bundled but that wind sucks the heat away right quick. Taking a walk close to home was bitter too. It felt good to get out there and move but good lord that wind tugged at the cheeks. We had snow flurries most of today. More are on the way.

We may get a storm later in the week. I’ll take it. While we have a couple inches of snow on the ground, drifted in spots and bare in others, I would love to see the ground covered. Can’t beat some quality snow in January. The Snow Buntings might appreciate it. They came back today. This is about when they arrived the past two years. We watched them swirl in a flock over the field and loop around to the neighbor’s fields, little white fluffs of fluttering. I spread some seed on the ground to let them know they are welcome. I am sure they will find it, hopefully in time for the storm.

I don’t plan to travel too far this week, so my chances of getting stopped on the interstate are slim. If we get a big old dump of snow, I won’t mind working from home. I need to stay safe, and it is easier to watch the snow fall from my home office, not to mention the Snow Buntings.

Winooski River Portrait January 2023

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Yesterday I participated in Vermont’s annual Bald Eagle survey, as I have for several years now. My route is the Winooski River, from Waterbury to Lake Champlain. I drive along the river, stopping at several spots to watch carefully, and watch less carefully as I drive from point to point. I did see one eagle, in Williston, and otherwise had a day of it watching a beautiful river that gets forgotten or taken for granted or often just not thought about.

The day was warm, relatively, just above freezing. In some past years I have done the survey with temperatures below zero. There was no ice at all yesterday, although there was fresh snow in the hills. The water was high and powered over the dams and ledges, less tame than last year. Here is my most recent portrait of the river.

Main Street Pull-Off, Duxbury
Next to Winooski Street Bridge, Waterbury
DeForge Hydroelectric Dam, Bolton/Duxbury
Next to the Long Trail, Jonesville, with snow in the mountains
Warren and Ruth Beeken Rivershore Preserve, Richmond
Bridge Near Volunteers Green, Richmond
From Lafontaine Canoe Access, Williston
Overlook Park, Williston
Woodside Natural Area, Essex
River Walk, Winooski
Detritus from Beaver Activity at Ethan Allen Homestead, Burlington
Fishing Access at the End of the River, Colchester

Last Day for the Christmas Tree

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In the dark days of November we set up a Christmas tree. Our family tradition has been to take a trek on the day after Thanksgiving to cut one from a local family who sells them. There was not much snow when we got there, just some patches in the shaded spots, but we were in the spirit nonetheless. We have a fairly tall ceiling but the one we found was much shorter. It seemed just right, however, so we made quick work with the saw and carried it to pop onto the roof rack.

While the rest of them tied the tree to the car, I walked to the front door. The field of trees spreads out behind the house and they had a small table set up on the shallow porch. They had a few wreaths for sale and a sign that offered maple syrup. Since Covid they have had a metal cash box to make payments, on the honor system. They turned a porch window into a payment window and I waved them down inside. We have been buying maple syrup from them and was hoping to do that again. I then noticed the hand-written sign that said this would be their last year.

The couple who sells the trees is ready to retire and even though they sell the trees just a couple months of the year, it is a lot of work. I thanked them for so many years of Christmas trees and the joy they have brought our family. Our kids had been coming there since they were small and many a tree from there has filled our house with green and light over the dark months. It was a bit sad, having shared this small part of our lives with these neighbors for so many years, knowing it was coming to an end, but I am a big believer in the opportunity that change brings. Our kids have passed the threshold into adulthood so our world is changing anyway. This is one more small piece of it.

Today is the last day for this tree in our house. It is time to remove the ornaments we have collected over the years and pack them into boxes until November. Taking the Christmas tree down is symbolic of the transition to a new year. Lots of things will be new this year and I hope most of them are positive. I can’t help but be optimistic. At this point it is a habit. Happy New Year. Here’s to good things to come in 2023. There are reasons to be pessimistic, I know, but I will take the positive wherever I can find it.

Snow Day Holiday

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Today is MLK Day. Martin Luther King Jr. and his contemporaries made a difference. They changed the world for the better. Safe and warm at home it is easy to forget that. We have a holiday today so that we remember that. I will do my best to remember that, not just today.

I had the privilege of meeting John Lewis a few years ago. That guy made me feel welcome and included and heard and seen. And he also made me feel like, no matter what, I could be doing more. That may simply be what happens when you meet someone who has put their life on the line for the greater good. He also reminded me that making small change is just as important and making big change. So at least I can focus on that.

The sun has set now. It is dark and the string lights on the porch railing and posts glow with their coating of snow. It snowed all day. The forecast called for snow tapering off by early afternoon, with total accumulation of up to three inches. They upped that estimated total amount to six inches by early afternoon. We got about a foot of snow by the time is stopped as the light faded.

This has been a day to celebrate. Any snowy day is a day to celebrate. I cannot fail to see how beautiful the world is when it snows. Even the grayest, dirtiest landscape becomes beautiful when it snows. And today we got a pile of the stuff. You might call it glorious.

So today we had reason to celebrate for multiple reasons. And celebration is what we need these days. I skied across the fields with snow tickling my face. I baked a batch of granola. I took care of a few niggling tasks. And I thought about how to change the world. I can start right now by making dinner for my family. It isn’t a lot but in our world it makes a difference. That’s something.

Going for the Crusty

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A couple of times now I have attempted to make crusty rolls. I am hoping to get them nailed down this month. Both attempts had their successes and but neither was just right. The thing about bread is that there are a bunch of factors that determine its character–the type of flour, rising time, oven temperature, baking time, humidity, other ingredients. Change one and the whole thing changes.

I know that to get a good crust you need to keep ingredients simple–flour, water, yeast, salt, maybe a little sweetener to get the yeast doing its thing. You need to let it rise enough so its makes big air pockets. You need to bake it hot enough, and adding water makes a difference. I tried all those things and I will need to keep experimenting.

The first batch? I added some butter. I should not have done that I guess. And the temperature was pretty high. I added a good dose of steam as I added them to the oven to bake so that helped, and I brushed them with an egg white/water wash. Those were crusty. They had just the right combination of crunch on the outside and softness on the inside. They were, however, a bit dark on the top. I mean, they were not quite burned, but I would not call them golden brown.

The second batch looked far better, but I had not let them rise as much. The water I added to the oven may not have been as hot as well. So they looked amazing–brown and puffy. They had some crust crunch, but not a whole lot. The flavor, however, was spot on. So they were downright delicious but not quite what I was aiming for.

I was going to try again today but the time passed and suddenly it felt too late to give this project the attention I needed to give it. So maybe tomorrow I will give it another go. The dough will have no butter, the temperature will be hopefully high enough but not too high, I will give them enough time to rise and I will add boiling water to the oven right before I pop them in. Maybe I will get it right. If not, I still have half the month to try again.

Winooski River Portrait 2022

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Yesterday I participated in the annual Midwinter Bald Eagle Survey. My route was the Winooski River, from Waterbury to Lake Champlain. I have surveyed this route several years now. While I did not see even one eagle, I did get to see the river in winter.

Last year the day was warm and there was much less ice. Yesterday I started with single-digit temperatures. By the time I was finished in the early afternoon the temperature was considering hitting 20, but had not yet decided.

Here is my portrait of the Winooski River for January 2022.

Close to shore, Duxbury
Under the Waterbury Winooski Street Bridge
Looking west from DeForge Hydroelectric Dam, Duxbury
Near Long Trail, Richmond
Long Trail footbridge, Richmond
From Jonesville Bridge
At Warren and Ruth Beeken Rivershore Preserve
Volunteers Green, Richmond
From Bridge near Fontaine Canoe Access, Williston
Overlook Park, Williston
Woodside Park, Essex
Winooski
Bike path bridge where Winooski River ends at Lake Champlain

What you can’t see

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Here is a photo looking west just after sunset a few days ago. Here are a few things you cannot see:

It had just snowed. There were a few inches on the ground–not fluffy or soft but malleable enough to walk through. No crust, no ice. It had fallen off the trees but the fields were covered.

It was cold. A breeze blew. The line of short trees, oaks and ashes and buckthorn, blocked the wind coming from the south. On the south side of that hedge, pull your collar up and your hat down.

Jupiter hung in the sky. When I took this photo I intended to capture it between the lower layers of clouds. The bright dot contrasted with the dark clouds. I called it stunning.

I was smacking a lollipop, a strawberry Dum-Dum. That thing was tasty. That thing did me right. Flavors are powerful and we do not always have them to help remember a scene. I had one for this scene.

I was walking the dogs. Usually my wife does this. I go with her at times, and of course if she is not around the task falls to me. I took them out solo on this day. But just after I captured this image, she came around the row of spruces and joined us. Even after many years of marriage it makes me smile to see her. Every time.

I was wearing boots. I love the basic boots I can slip on and wander outside. The condition of the fields is so varied that I often am reminded how great they are. Whether there is snow or standing water or mud or rain or burrs or ticks, they protect and serve.

I headed back to the house after this. It got dark. We settled in for the night. The solstice was about to arrive. Now it has. We are headed to longer days. These are the days of hope in the year. I find it harder to cling to that hope these days. An afternoon like this, however, certainly helps.

Rediscovering Lollipops

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Over a month ago I got a cold. It was the worst cold I have ever had. I was down and out for two full days, sitting on the couch and watching crap on the screen. And I was feeling like yuck for a couple weeks. Stuffy, weak, runny nose, cough. That cough, that was what did me in. It lasted and lasted. Even after all my other symptoms were gone the cough persisted.

It kept me awake at night, which didn’t help with getting ridding of the cold. I mean, sleep matters, right? My nephew suggested NyQuil. I have resisted this medicine, not because I have anything against it, but because it works so well. Aside from it tasting nasty, that stuff knocks you out, but in this case this was just what I needed. I took it. It knocked me out.

During the day, however, I did not want to be knocked out. My son got me a bag of cough drops. What a good kid, eh? They did work well but they were not exactly full of joyful flavor. They weren’t terrible, but one or two a day was my limit. One day my wife, who is typically the one to walk the dogs, was away. Before I headed out into the cold with the beasts, I found a bag of leftover Halloween candy. I grabbed a mini Charms lollipop and walked out.

I have not really ever been a fan of lollipops, or any hard candy for that matter. You can’t hate hard candy. It is pretty much sugar after all. But this one, orange, was really good. Maybe it was the cold air. Maybe it was just how fun it was to swirl the thing around and to play with that paper stick. Maybe it was that it made my cough disappear during that walk. Every day going outside I would have a lollipop and even toss a second one in my pocket, just in case. Any flavor was good. I was loving them. And the habit has stuck, so to speak.

Luckily these particular treats were not the first ones that everyone else took from that Halloween stash. They were in a mixed bag of candy and they lasted a little while. But eventually I went through them all. Given my aversion to them in the past, I surprised even myself. For a couple of days I had to resort to these weird big flat lollipops, but they did not do at all.

Unfortunately, those Charms lollipops only came in a bag mixed with other candy, but in my perusal of the candy aisle I found a big bag of Dum-Dums. Those would do. And so I have been reducing my stock of these fun little candies every day. There are way more flavors of Dum-Dums than Charms and every bag contains several Mystery?? pops. Lollipops have been fun, no doubt.

My cough is still lingering, weeks later, but it is mostly gone. Sucking on lollipops may be a new thing for me for a while. I like the feeling of having one there to spin about. Maybe this is why babies like pacifiers so much. Am I reverting to infancy? Not sure that is the case, at least not yet. But until my cough is all gone I have an excuse to keep eating lollipops. And I’m doing it.

Time to Pitch the Pumpkins

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We cut a Christmas Tree yesterday. We have done this for many years at the same place so I guess it is a family tradition at this point. The day after Thanksgiving we grab a saw and some gloves and something to tie the tree to the car and head to Menard’s Tree Farm. Some years it has been warm enough for shorts. Other years we track through snow. Yesterday was our first tree cutting in the rain.

That rain turned to snow late in the day. After we got home we propped the tree in the corner and, once it was dry enough, trimmed it with pewter snowflakes and glass snowmen and paper-framed photos of our kids made in elementary school. By the time we had that done, and other holiday decorating was underway, darkness was falling along with snow.

This year especially, like last year, we have been eager to spruce the place up, to put up lights and make the house festive. These are unusual times, filled with more than literal darkness. Putting up a Christmas tree, however, conflicts with the pumpkins. Those brought their own type of light but it is time for them to go.

On the far side of the field there is a compost pile, filled with gardening scraps–sunflower stalks and mint clippings and old squashes. We moved to this house just over a year ago and, before we had set up a household composting system nearby, I would trudge across the meadow to dump our apple peels and coffee grounds and egg shells. There was a lot piled on that pile.

This summer vines started to grow out of this pile. By fall we had pumpkins ripening. The last owners of the house had tossed their leftover gourds and the seeds sprouted. There were giant jack-o-lantern pumpkins and butternut squash. The butternut squash never really panned out, but we picked maybe twenty pumpkins and decorated the front porch and the back deck. Bonus agricultural products.

As we have been putting the house to bed–trimming the flower beds and the apple trees, turning in the vegetable garden–we have hauled organic material to the pile across the field. We have included some of those pumpkins in those visits. The small ones or the weak ones couldn’t handle a freeze and started to wilt. Right now we have half a dozen still at the house. This morning they are coated in ice and snow. Now that the Christmas season is fully here, it is time to pitch the pumpkins.

They do look pretty cool, so to speak, covered in white, but with even a minimal thaw, they will turn to mush. There are still a few flower vines and lily remnants to gather and haul away, so we will fill the cart and trudge through the inch and a half of snow and add the pumpkins to the pile. Next summer I am hoping they will begin the cycle again, vines stretching from the waste pile to grow some more orange and green globes to celebrate fall. For now, however, bring on the snow.