Monday, February 24, 2014

A few small victories

I think we're making some minimal progress toward warmer weather. The high temperature for Thursday of this week was negative three. Now it's zero. So, for the rest of the week we're looking at daytime highs of zero or above and lows all in the negative numbers. This is a very small victory, but I'll take it and be grateful for it.

St. Croix 360 has a story about a recent hike through a Standing Cedars' property along the St. Croix River in which over-wintering robins are mentioned. Yesterday, the daughter person and her fiancee snowshoed back into the wilds of Carlos Avery to take some photos of a "warm spring" (open, flowing water) they've discovered that turns out to be habitat for a pair of overwintering robins. I've asked them to share some of the pictures and do a guest blog posting. Stay tuned. I don't know how you feel about it but I found the sight of open water to be more than a little heartening as we slowly try to dig out of this winter.

snow fleas in melting snow February 2013
snow fleas in melting snow    © harrington

One year ago to the day, it was warm enough that we had snow melting and snow fleas jumping. This year, what with our Polar Vortices and recent snow fall, the melting we often see near the base of trees as Spring nears is nowhere visible. I'm tired enough of Winter and snow and cold and writing about each that I'm even willing to forego the beauty of the rising sun sparkling on ice-coated windows. Remember, for a ship to come in, the water must be open.

rising sun sparkling through ice-coated window
a billion ice-coated stars       © harrington

One’s Ship Comes In

By Joe Paddock 
I swear
my way now will be
to continue without
plan or hope, to accept
the drift of things, to shift
from endless effort
to joy in, say,
that robin, plunging
into the mossy shallows
of my bird bath and
splashing madly till
the air shines with spray.
Joy it will be, say,
in Nancy, pretty in pink
and rumpled T-shirt,
rubbing sleep from her eyes, or
joy even in
just this breathing, free
of fright and clutch, knowing
how one’s ship comes in
with each such breath.

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