Northbound Transient

This morning I listened to a white throated sparrow calling from my neighbor's silver maple tree. (Old-Sam Peabody Peabody Peabody.. one of the few bird calls I know) I couldn't see him hiding high up among the swelling buds, but his call was clear and frequent. Every year these guys pass through the area on their way back up to balsam-scented high places farther north. Perhaps due to all the snow remaining just north of here they'll stick around for a while. Whenever I hear his call I'm suddenly 100 miles north and 2000' up, so if this guy wants to enjoy our feeders and hang out in the backyard for a while, we're overjoyed to extend our hospitality to him. However, I understand if he feels the urge to continue his journey; I feel that call myself.

Friday I watched a pileated woodpecker slam his head into a towering dead branch on one of our old sugar maples. I had never seen this type of woodpecker- this wasn't the fast drilling sound I'm used to from smaller woodpeckers. This guy slammed his head repeatedly into the wood, sounding more like a hammer- I was getting a headache just watching him. A magnificent black and red bird and large- maybe 10" tall?

Running in the woods on Sunday with a friend and two dogs, our feet found mostly ground and water and only the occasional patch of snow. Chasing through the woods again felt great! Now that the days are so much longer I'll be out in the woods more often, watching the trees begin to bud. Quite a lot has changed in two weeks- I can see 80% of my yard, and with 60 degree temperatures for the rest of the week, it seems spring is here to stay, and we may not make our record snowfall. There's always next year.

I have crocuses around, impressive because we planted none last year. They have been out for two weeks, are exclusively purple, and are coming up in places no where near where we planted them. Fun; we suspect squirrels.

The tulips are poking through as well, but no flowers yet.

Oh, and the sap. To end on a sad note, we managed to burn our second run of sap as well, the product of many hours and perhaps 20 gallons of sap. We lost our willingness to burn more propane (and $) and abandoned the operation for the year. Lessons learned- we'll collect wood for next year, we need a large pan on which to boil (more evaporation area), and when the sap is getting close to finished it needs to be watched very very closely. Anyone need 40 gallons of sap?

Burning Sap

No, that's not a description of me, or my brain, while enduring a never-ending conference call and typing this at the same time.

It's the smell from the kitchen last night as our first seven gallons of sap, patiently boiled down to a half gallon then brought inside to finish almost caught fire as we neglected it. The house smells a bit like cotton candy. Smoky cotton candy.

We tapped three trees with seven taps and have (er, had) 36 gallons of sap in one week of tapping. Hopefully the sap will keep running all week.

Speaking of running; with sap, construction projects, and of course one 33 week pregnant wife, I have not done much running. I'm always running around, but that's different. I did, however, enjoy my neighborhood sledding hill yesterday and soaked up this beautiful april sunshine with my wife, brother, sister in law and nephews, five and two. What a day. Despite the foot and a half of snow almost everywhere, I am proud to report several crocuses poking up out of the soil on the south side of the house. Spring will be here someday.

Snow update- two and a half inches the other day- another seven inches and Concord breaks the all-time seasonal snowfall record. We're in second place. What the hay, why not?

Sometimes a good friend from the city comes and visits- a transition for me and for her. A reminder that we all can appreciate a change of scenery now and then. I'd better get down to the city soon and return the favor. Perhaps there's spring down there.

Yes, I started this blog hopping up and down loving the snow. Now I'm dreaming of all things green. We can't control our subconscious; we can track its progress through cabin fever and mud season and enjoy it all.

--All my random thoughts for now

snowy longings, or, Be Careful What you Wish For

I spend half the year performing mental snow-dances, hoping and waiting for days-long whiteouts leaving the world piled in a soft white blanket. Then I can venture forth into the woods and hills, sliding jumping and dancing through the bounty. And this year my hoping and dancing has been rewarded, and then some. As of this writing, with a foot on the way tonight, another 20" (not including that foot) will tie the all-time Concord snowfall record. This goes a ways towards making up for all those terrible near-snowless winters. I haven't seen a scrap of my yard (wistfully- my beautiful, sun-dappled emerald green yard.... , but none of that now.) since December. I can't remember a winter like that in a long time.

The problem is, my genius dog finally figured out (after a few months like this) that the snow is actually in some places up to the level of the fence surrounding the yard. I suppose something on the other side caught her attention and so she went for a walk out. We recovered her one street away, after wandering into the street, unharmed. I've since fenced off the section behind the shed and snowblowed down one particularly high section, but with this upcoming snowfall there's not much I can do. Since I don't plan on snowblowing the entire circumference of the yard into a giant snow pile in the middle (though I could make quite the snowman that way!), the dog may be on a leash until the snow melts.

Ahh, winter in New England. We are so lucky this winter. The plants are all well-insulated. Should be a good spring. And with that statement I reveal that, despite my love of the snow and desire for more, there is a portion of me which, with the lengthening days, starts to, unbidden, daydream of sunlight, green growing things and springtime! First we'll take a few more snowstorms, the sap running, a whole lot of runoff, flooding and mud and THEN we'll be ready to plant and grow. (and we'll have our own little baby to grow around that time.