Monday Forest photo: March 19, 2012

11:00am 18C sunny

 So sorry about the missing month of Monday Forest. I did take pictures, and I'll probably post them for continuity's sake sometime. We've gone from winter to summer and it isn't even officially spring until tomorrow. I read in the paper that some expert is calling this stretch of hot weather (mid twenties in March!) a 1 in a 1000 year event. Yesterday, the record high temperature was broken by 9 degrees C and there's warmer for later on this week. In fact, the forecast low for Wednesday night is higher than the previous record high. This weather is impossible not to enjoy at this time of year (well, any time of year) but it's a little like how I imagine it feels to live the high life on stolen loot. In this case, we've stolen our kids' climate.

The forest floor is coming to life even though only yesterday there was still snow covering more than half of it. I don't know what this hairy-tongued thing is.

For comparison, this picture was taken last week, when the temperature got up to a whopping 12C. This is what kids in Canada do - on the first nice day they put on shorts, find a patch of bare ground and skype with their friends on their mom's laptop. With chickens. Just like when I was a kid. Except for the skype and laptop and chickens. More like transistor radio and book, but still.

Monday Forest photo: February 13, 2012

12:00pm 1C sunny

Today was another beautiful sunny day. In spite of the mild temperatures we've had, we've somehow been fortunate enough to keep our snow and at least the appearance of winter. You don't have to travel far from here to run right out of snow. It's a rather dramatic demonstration of the effect of a very modest increase in temperature. 

Oh, and Meg is hiding in the picture this week.

We've had some spectacularly clear skies recently.

Monday Forest photo: February 6, 2012

2:00pm 5C sunny

 Oh February sun, you are a tease. You touch my face with your warm rays, but we both know it won't last. Today was an exercise in living in the moment. The pleasure of the fine weather was tempered by hearing on the radio later that the temperature was a record high for the day. Sigh.

The pond was in fine shape for a skate before it warmed up above freezing this morning.

The chickens enjoyed the sun, but were highly suspicious of the snow. A couple of them did a hop, skip and jump (with flapping) to roost on a log closer to the house, but mostly, they wait for spring.

Monday Forest photo: January 30, 2012

1:30 pm -5C cloudy

 Still winter here. The sun has shown up the last couple of days, which makes it all more bearable. And the fact that sunset here is after 5 now is a lovely bonus.

I fear that some creature is helping himself to the contents of the hive in the big cedar. There are pieces of comb and dead bees lying at the base of the tree. Based on the size of the scat that was also there, I'm pretty sure that this is a creature that does not fit into the hole, so perhaps the damage will be limited to the extent of his reach.

Monday Forest photo: January 23, 2012

12:00pm 1C cloudy

I admit it. I'm getting bored of winter, and it's still only January. Snow, freezing rain, ice pellets, cold, colder, less cold, more snow, blah, blah, blah. I even forgot to publish the Monday Forest photo until Thursday. Whatever.

Monday Forest photo: January 2, 2012

12:00pm -1C light snow

We've had every kind of weather this week and we're back in a rapid change from warm to cold. It's hard to get bored by the weather. A few days ago we had heavy, wet snow followed by a drop in temperature which resulted in many trees being bent over, some right to the ground. I shook the heavy snow off all the trees which were impinging on the trail, and got much of it down the back of my collar. I alternated between being too warm from the exertion to keep my hood up, to freezing cold with a load of snow on my neck. You'll be relieved to know I survived and so did the trees.

Monday Forest photo: December 26, 2011

2:00pm 1C overcast

It's looking very festive here in Monday Forest. We got several centimetres of snow yesterday, which made for a very pretty Christmas Day, and warmed even my grinchy, several-sizes-too-small heart.

The forest was alive with the song of several dozen robins, along with some chickadees, nuthatches and  a downy woodpecker. I don't recall seeing a robin at this time of year or this many robins congregated ever.

Longest night

In three hours the northern hemisphere will tilt as far away from the sun as it will get for the year. What a relief. The days will start gradually, but inevitably, to get longer, and the sun will rise higher in the sky every day.

I think I prefer the traditional name midwinter, rather than referring to this as the first day of winter, as we do now. The solstice marks such a turning point and in a few weeks the sun will start behaving much more spring-like, even if the temperatures don't. Mind you, with the weather we've had recently, we've no business calling this midwinter - the freezing rain today is really the first serious weather of the season.

Monday Forest photo: December 12, 2011

11:45am 5C sunny

Today was a lovely, mild day. The tiny bit of snow that is still on the ground is melting, and the birds are singing and it doesn't seem like winter at all.

It was a lot wintrier last week but still not very snowy. This was the view off the back deck.

Oh, and I know I promised my tips for bringing down the economy - sorry. Next post.

Monday Forest photo: November 28, 2011

11:30am 5C light drizzle 

A mere 5 days ago, it was a winter wonderland here in Monday Forest, but the temperatures have been well above freezing ever since and the snow is long gone. It's a cold enough climate here that we expect to see snow on the ground all winter, but it can take a few tries at the beginning before it sticks. In the meantime, depending on one's perspective, one waits with dread or anticipation for winter to finally arrive.

This little cluster of cedar cones caught my eye. It made me think of the preparations all the wild ones make for winter. Much more life and death than remembering to empty the rain barrels.

See ya later, sunset!

The view from my kitchen window one day last winter

At this time of year I start to get kind of squirrelly because of the very short days. Because my days are my own, and most mornings I don't have to get out of bed to be somewhere before it gets light, the primary day length issue for me is what time the sun sets.

I spent a little time perusing a sunrise/sunset calendar for my area and made a wonderful discovery. Today the sun set at 4:25 pm. In just over a week, on December 5, the sun will set five minutes earlier at 4:20 pm and that will be as early as it ever sets. Ever. Oh, the days will continue to get shorter, and sunrise will be later and later until January 5, but that critical sunset time bottoms out in 9 more days.

I may just make it this year, and I'll try to appreciate the the view.

First snow

The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found? - J.B. Priestly

When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I'll know I'm growing old. - Lady Bird Johnson

Warm and somewhat contrarian thoughts

We've got a seventies vintage, Elmira woodstove. We use it to heat our house almost exclusively. I'm sure it isn't the most efficient or clean stove out there, but it's the one we have, and one doesn't change out a woodstove lightly. There is nothing I like better than to get up on a frosty morning and build a fire, then sit in front of it with a big mug of coffee.

You may be surprised to hear that being the doomer I am, I don't have cords of wood stacked up, ready for the next two winters. Neither do my husband or I go into the woods and cut our own firewood. Rather, we have a fellow who lives down the road who will deliver a cord at a time within a day or two of us calling. I stack the wood under the deck and we're good for another couple of months. We're not really set up to store much more than a full cord of wood, and it just isn't a priority, given how well our system is working for us. The fact is, if we wanted to save money on firewood, it would be at a cost of many hours of fairly hard labour at a very low hourly rate. Given how local a commodity firewood is, and the fact that I see my supplier's stocks of it every time I go to town, I don't stress a bit about going cold.

Scenes from a frozen pond

Our unlikely little pond has surprised us once again by becoming a perfect outdoor skating pond. The dry winter so far has allowed great ice to form without much snow-clearing required. We're not really a big skating family, but this is a pretty great way to spend a sunny winter afternoon.

Why is this dog smiling?

Meg and I both love our daily walks in the forest. I mostly stick to the trails and amble along, while Meg runs huge circles around me, taking side trips to chase squirrels. We've had a pretty wet fall, so there are some muddy spots on the trails and in the secret places where Meg goes. I wear my rubber boots so the mud doesn't bother me, and Meg wears her bright white fur, so the mud doesn't bother her. For much of the past few weeks, our walks have ended with Meg in the laundry sink getting rinsed off. Neither of us likes this very much - me because lifting a muddy, unhappy dog into the sink almost always results in some mud transferring from her to me, and she because, well, I don't know exactly, it's a dog thing. What could be so unpleasant about a nice warm shower after a brisk walk?

We've had a few cold nights recently, enough to freeze the mud puddles, and a tiny bit of snow to cover all the dirt. This fortunate state of affairs leaves Meg in pristine condition after a walk - maybe just a bit cleaner than when we started. We certainly don't miss the bath. In a part of the world where we have four distinct seasons: mud, mosquito, mud and winter; winter definitely has some advantages.

Taking the air

We had our annual January thaw this week. It rained hard as it always does when it rains here in January, but it eventually cleared and the girls took advantage of the warm weather to get some fresh air outdoors. They don't like standing in snow, especially wet snow, so they found some branches to hang out on and made lots of happy chicken sounds. Sadly for them, winter is back and they're back in the coop until the next fine day.

Treehenge (stonehedge?) winter solstice sunrise

Meg and I watched the sun come up today through a gap in the trees. I'd been noticing for a while that the sun seemed to be rising closer and closer to this spot so I went out this morning and waited. Sure enough, I was rewarded with this view of the sun rising at its most southerly point of the year.

I feel such a relief on the shortest day. It doesn't get any darker than this. There are months of cold and snow ahead, but the days will get longer and the sun will rise higher in the sky. Welcome back, sun!

Of chickens and carrots in the snow

I dropped in on the chickens this afternoon to give them some scratch and collect eggs (aren't they supposed to stop laying in the winter?). They were curious about the snow, which we've only had since Wednesday, but they refused to set foot outside the coop. They like to eat snow, but they don't like to walk in it.

I went to the garden to see if my carrots were still ok, and I'm happy to report they're fine. The soil was beautifully loose under the straw bale, and picking some carrots for dinner was hardly any more trouble than in August.

Snug at the shack

One of my favourite things to do is to spend an evening in front of the woodstove at our old log cabin. The only light is candlelight and the only sound is us. We can't hear anything from outside except the train whistle a kilometre away and sometimes coyotes. We sit and talk and eat pie and drink warming beverages and that's about it.

Our everyday house (and we are not alone in this) suffers from a definite lack of snug. It's too bad because I think it requires extra energy to make up for the missing internal warmth you get at a place like our cabin. Or maybe it's just a warm frame of mind that is difficult to attain with dishwashers and fridges and LEDs all jangling our nerves.

Winter coop

We moved the girls from their portable chicken tractor into an old goose-house turned shed turned chicken coop yesterday. They were curious about their new digs and spent lots of time exploring and trying to figure out how to get out the window. They'll live indoors for the winter where they'll have more room out of the weather. Of course, on nice days they can still free range outside if they want.

 

By this morning they had figured out the nest boxes and got right to work - five eggs!