The Value of Looking Back

2001

At times, along life's stony track
It strengthens us if we look back;
For when we have so much to do
We're cheered by what we have come through.

Oh, it was a grisly mess.

The Petrified Forest

After a week of very pleasant temperatures and some very heavy rain, we have dropped into a trough of bone-chilling cold. The freeze was so rapid that the trees had no chance to shed the water with which they were saturated; many are sheathed in ice, and some droplets froze like giant gemstones on the needles.

In places, the boughs of the red pines are welded together by ice. Many leaders simply snapped off under the ice load. Vulnerable branches, some quite large, tore away from the trunk and littered the path this morning. It was -20.3°C at 6:30am, and as I walked the crust shattered with a sound like breaking glass.  

 The Grove was thickly glazed and the trees sparkled in the low, cold sun.







Panama blazed with light, the sun trapped and reflected in the iced-over trees in the clearing.

Early (False?) Spring

Perhaps we will have an early spring this year; admittedly, March is a week away, and anything can happen in this season--still. . . .

All in all, the last few days have been delightful--or, as a colleague of mine put it, "frightening" (though she admitted she was very happy about the mild winter). The snow under close-planted trees, never deep, vanished as the temperature topped +4°.

The snowshoe trail has grown soggy and pitted; everywhere the sun touches it softens up. Snowshoes are too awkward but boots punch holes in the weakening crust. Valla seemed surprised to find a considerable amount of open water at Panama; this was a frozen clearing last year at this time. 

We drove Northwest to Miramichi for an auction, and although the roads were covered with treacherous slush, the snow grew gradually wetter as the day wore on. We could see whole fields almost free of snow, with stubble sticking up through the thin covering. Clearly, the thaw has been even more effective along the coast. While the driving was not good, it was never dangerous (apart from a moment when a car tore through an intersection at speed, nearly ripping off the front end of the van). We stopped by the Greens', and Dave confirmed that the wood of the standing secretary desk (don't know what else to call it) is butternut. By the time we reached home, the snow had become a light drizzle. Today the melt continues; for the last two hours, it has been raining gently, puddles have formed under the trees, and the little Crick is largely open. 

The truck has been sitting on a sheet of ice next to the workshop since I parked it in late December. Today with the aid of the thaw and a large bag of sand, I actually managed to get it unstuck, clawing my way forward until I hit the remaining snow. It is dense and wet but only about 8 inches deep. If this keeps up, I will be able to drive away quite easily. Last March 14 we had nearly three feet of snow in the woods--I can't wait to see what this year's accumulation will amount to. It looks as though our firewood will last out the season after all. We've burned less of everything: wood, oil, and pellets. Prices on all fuels are down this year as well. Yup--definitely frightening.

Colder Still

This was a cold day, about -19°C. Strong winds have shaken much of the recent snow from the trees and the accumulation is adding up--it is close to half a meter now. The wind was bitter, but it died down in the evening. Overnight it was nearly -23°--the coldest yet!

Wonders in Heaven Above

This was the most intense blue I have ever seen in the firmament; I am not sure the picture does it justice. No blood, fire, vapour, or smoke, but a mighty pretty colour.

Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere

Another sunny day. Does that tree in the middle look a little like Godzilla, or have I been inhaling spruce oil for too long?

Godzilla spotted.

Anyway, I caught some nice splashes of sun on a cedar bole. 

Several cords of cedar have blown down; I must get to cutting them up and hauling them away before they rot. On the other hand, if they do rot, it's that much better for the soil. Nothing is truly wasted in the woodlot.

Month of Changes

February is all mutability. Thursday was gray and almost clear of snow--the accumulation in the woods wouldn't come up to a dog's knees, and here's the proof:


A mere 24 hours later, everything was quite different. Notice on the left that the trees carry no snow load at all. . . . The snow began around noon on Friday, and by the next day we were buried--it looks to be about 30cm. 










The trees are once again burdened with snow, though it is quite dry and light. Every little breeze causes a little cascade to tumble from the branches.

Valla found the going rather hard work--she is recharging her solar cells here, something her perfect black body is naturally equipped to do. The part about "infinitely small thickness" obviously does not apply in this case.