Monday, February 8, 2021

Time for some cold, hard facts

If memory from long ago, high school days, serves correctly, about the beginning of the last week of February is when the sun's returning warmth becomes really noticeable. The rules at my high school were that upperclassmen (it was an all boys school) were allowed to smoke in the parking lot during lunch break and any free periods. Even though Boston's winter climate is milder than Minnesota's, there were fewer upperclassmen heading for someone's car in the parking lot during January. Come the end of February, as lunch period ended, it sometimes looked as if there were several vehicle fires in the parking lot as doors opened and five or six smokers emerged from each vehicle simultaneously. Today's temperatures and sunshine, plus those forecast through next weekend, reminded me of those long, long ago days and some of the madness in which teenagers engaged. Not enough sense to come in out of the cold?


a chickadee puffed up in the cold
a chickadee puffed up in the cold
Photo by J. Harrington

On our way back from an appointment in St. Paul this morning we stopped and picked up a couple of packages of beef suet at our local grocery store. The birds seem to consume more of it during these cold spells and suet availability is sporadic at the store. Rarely is there suet in abundance. Often there's none. Makes it hard to stock up and we learned that the purchase of half a beef from a nearby producer and processor doesn't provide any left over suet. The lack of wind makes the temperatures more tolerable, the birds aren't puffed up quite as much, but it's still cold enough that we try not to dawdle while we're outside or in the unheated garage. The poor dogs don't seem to be able to reason their way to limiting exposure to keep paws from getting cold and painful. They still sniff and smell their way to wherever they're headed rather than travel at double time and get back in the house asap. I've spoken with them about this and each of the dogs seemed to indicate that it was their paws getting cold and if I weren't an overcontrolling human they, and I, might enjoy life more. Of course, being dogs, what do they know?


Valentine's Day treats
Valentine's Day treats
Photo by J. Harrington

The Christmas amaryllis have come and bloomed and are almost gone. There's one bloom left. Slowly but surely, the Better Half and I are adding new cut flowers or potted bulbs to help us weather this bitter cold spell. They'll also help celebrate Valentine's Day although we lean heavily in the direction of chocolate for that celebration. Meanwhile, we look forward to hearing the sounds of water dripping from the eaves and flowing overland as Spring nears and thaws replace arctic cold.


Cold Morning



Through an accidental crack in the curtain 
I can see the eight o'clock light change from 
charcoal to a faint gassy blue, inventing things

in the morning that has a thick skin of ice on it 
as the water tank has, so nothing flows, all is bone, 
telling its tale of how hard the night had to be

for any heart caught out in it, just flesh and blood 
no match for the mindless chill that's settled in, 
a great stone bird, its wings stretched stiff

from the tip of Letter Hill to the cobbled bay, its gaze 
glacial, its hook-and-scrabble claws fast clamped 
on every window, its petrifying breath a cage

in which all the warmth we were is shivering.


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