Waiting for the storm

Yesterday a crowd of robins was in the front yard.

Today only the juncos and goldfinches are about.
Ice is on the ground and a blizzard is on its way.
The birdfeeders are full.
The bees are fed.
The new wood shed is keeping our wood dry.
A fire is burning.

The tea kettle is on the stove.

A bright orange amaryllis is blooming in the living room.

We're ready.

Into the Woods

The woods are full of stories, about the births and lives and deaths of numerous critters and plants. A blanket of snow tells me bits and pieces of the stories and I can see just how active life is on our "quiet" hilltop.

On my photo journey through the woods on Monday I saw tracks of birds and small rabbits on top of the snow. Deeper tracks by rabbits, paw prints of raccoons or oppossums, and many, many trails made by deer. Some tracks were made by either canine or feline wild ones. A little wind and melt had obscured those tracks enough that I couldn't determine which.
All of the bits and pieces of the stories I found in the snow left the rest of the tales a mystery.
Then there is the old car part way up the hill. It is very old, maybe from the 1930s. The engine is missing, as well as the seats and any trace of them. The top is open where canvas probably once kept out the snow.

It is likely that the hillside had very few trees on it when the car was left there to rust, as the woods are fairly young growth.
What is its tale? Why was it left HERE?

Nearby I found something that I had forgotten was there, an old farm implement.
A small cultivator of some sort lying on its back, its "claws" in the air. Fifty years ago, this spot would have been a really out of the way place. Why drag it all the way out here?
I leave the carcasses behind and follow the waterway at the bottom of the hill, passing a series of large boulders that seem to have slid down the hill at some distant point in time.

They were likely part of the rock ledge that runs through the hill. Heavy rains may have eroded the soil and they slid down. Another story. Another mystery.

The backbone of our homestead.

I then climbed toward their possible birthplace, the rocky outcropping that marks where the land suddenly drops down. The backbone of our homestead.

Through the woods and around the trees, fallen trees, black raspberry brambles, gooseberry bushes. Here the animal trails are fewer. In the snow I find another story. A sad tale. Black and yellow feathers where a bird met its demise, probably at the claws of a hawk or one of the barred owls that inhabit our woods.

I climb higher and over the rocky spine of the land, heading toward the redcedar grove. Near the rundown barbed wire fence that marks the edge of our property is another farm implement, an old disk partly obscured by tall, dead grass and snow... looking like the vertebrae of a large, long dead animal.

Through the quiet of the grove where redcedars grow so thickly that little undergrowth exists, creating inviting open areas beneath the fragrant branches. Places just tall enough for a child -- or a childlike adult -- to sit.

I move among the cedars, down the path that we keep mowed in the summer, and marvel at the many tracks and trails created by animals as they go about their business unseen by the human inhabitants of this place.

At the edges of the grove, cedar boughs sport crystaline ornaments, clumps of snow that had thawed and refrozen.

Emerging from the cedars I cross an open expanse and come upon the birdfeeders.

Again with the birds. I like the challenge of photographing birds and spent much time trying to capture them with my lens. I won't bore you with lots of bird shots, but here's one of a cardinal and his court of juncos.

Today, after whole week of thaw, the woods are still full of snow. Yesterday the weather was warm enough that I trekked down the wooded hill without my coat, on a route I rarely take. It turned out to be a shortcut to our beehive. Some of "the girls" were buzzing around just outside of the hive entrance, taking advantage of the unseasonable warmth. More snow -- along with freezing drizzle -- is forecast for the next few days. More white landscapes. The green is coming, however. So you don't go snowblind, I will leave you with a bit of summer.



Lettuce be happy

A frosty, misty morning.

Sunshine and temperatures in the mid-40s early this week have cause a lot of thaw.
Glaciers of snow slide down our metal roof, hanging over the edge, dripping icicles and threatening all who walk outdoors. Then they slide more and wet snow lands with a fwump on the ground.

A snow glacier curls over the edge of the porch roof.

On Monday I pushed snow away from the rocks anchoring the edge of the plastic covering the lettuce bed, so the sun could thaw the frozen snow sticking the stones to the ground. Then I went for a long walk through the woods, down the rocky hill, through a waterway and back up and through the redcedar grove.
I saw many things and took many photos.
But that is not the tale I will tell today.

A lavendar flower stalk bristles with icy crystals.

Tuesday morning brought a frozen fog that coated trees and plants with frost. When I stepped outdoors after sunrise, most of the fog had cleared from our hilltop, but still lurked in the woods and lay in the valley below us. The morning had an extra spell of enchantment over it.
Later that day, while the sun shone and the thermometer read 46 degrees, I ventured out into the slushy snow with baskets in hand.
Yes. That was the day I finally opened the lettuce house.
I shoved back the blankets that had been thrown over the top of the house.
I moved the now bare stones from the edge of the plastic.
I pulled the plastic back.
Then I dragged out the old comforter that lay directly on top of the lettuce.
What did I find?
Some definitely frozen mush of lettuce....

My late January lettuce harvest!!!

And some beautiful fresh, perky lettuce.
I harvested what was good and hauled the mush to the compost heap.
Last night we had salads made from our own lettuce, picked in late January after weathering a few nights of below zero temps.
Yes!
All of the lettuce has been harvested now, but this is not the end of the story. Yesterday and during previous harvests I saw where some of the lettuce plants that had been cut were beginning to grow back. In the bed I opened yesterday is some lettuce that has not yet reached a harvestable size, but which was happy and healthy looking.
In a few weeks I will pull away the heavy hay mulch and let the sun warm the soil and tickle the little lettuces into growth beneath the plastic shelter.
And so the story continues...

What is this thing I found in the woods? All will be reveal in my next picture blog.

Lettuce pause



Lettuce is under there somewhere.

 I know that you all are anxiously waiting for news of the lettuce.
I did go out to the garden yesterday with the intention of opening the low tunnel and harvesting lettuce -- if any was left to harvest.


Broccoli seedlings.

 We had 6 to 8 inches of snow a few days ago, but it was light fluffy stuff and not difficult to dig with my gloved hands. I uncovered a few of the stones anchoring one edge of the plastic and unstuck a couple that were frozen to the sheets and blankets draped over the plastic tunnel for extra protection.
The next large stone was not only covered with several inches of fluffy new snow, but was also encased in old snow that had melted slightly and refrozen into ice. This was going to take tools.
The moment of consideration was brief.
I did not feel like spending the time or energy it would take to accomplish this task.
You will just have to wait for a more definitive lettuce report. So far it looks like the high will be around 42 on Friday. Maybe...
Maybe I will be able to acquire some intelligence from the undercover lettuce then.


Okra stumps in the snow.

 For now, you must be satisfied (or frustrated, it's your choice) with this little song and dance I've devised to occupy you.
About a week and a half ago I planted seed of broccoli, lacinato kale, cabbage and cauliflower.
The flats were set by the wood burning stove and the seeds had sprouted within three days.
So I wheeled in the light shelves and put the seedlings under lights.


A gnarly hedge tree in the woods.

On Wednesday of this past week I planted onions and leeks in flats, which are now sitting by the stove. They have not yet sprouted. The onion family does not sprout as quickly as the cabbage family.
So, as I wait to see whether last fall's lettuce will provide an early spring crop, I've already started spring gardening. About the middle of February (not far off) I will start the eggplants and peppers. Then by the end of February, I will give serious consideration to planting peas in the garden. That depends on how the weather progresses.
Groundhog Day is a little over a week away. Then we'll see whether it's another month and a half of winter or whether spring weather is just six weeks away.

Over the next few days I'll take a walk or two through our woods and bring back more snow-covered photos. Some of the least travelled parts have interesting features. Until then, enjoy these.

Through the snowy woods...

Rabbit control

About 8:30 this morning we saw four bobcats -- presumably mom and three young ones -- move across the open area in front of our house. I have seen bobcat prints in the snow, but until now had not seen even one of the actual critters.

The cats moved out of the woods that populate the hill south of our house, through the open areas and into the garden north of the house. These photos were taken with a 300x telephoto lens through glass on a cloudy morning. Yet you can still see the beautiful spotted pattern on their coats.
Bobcat kittens start learning to hunt by following mom when they are about five months old. Our mom was probably showing these kittens how to sniff out rabbits. I've seen one hanging around lately.
Bobcats eat rabbits, rabbits and more rabbits. Rabbits make up at least half of their diet. Perhaps this mama bobcat has claimed our homestead as her territory and will be on rabbit patrol this summer.

Bobcat kittens strike out on their own at seven to nine months. Sometimes siblings remain in a family group for a while.

I was surprised at how small these wild cats are, they didn't seem much bigger than a large house cat.

However, when the adult went past our Honda Civic that sits outside, its back was at the middle of the front bumper. So they are a bit bigger than house cats, more the size of a small-medium dog.

Lettuce countdown

Minus 5 (that is FIVE degrees BELOW zero) this morning. The lettuce bed never fell below 22 degrees above zero, with no lights or anything providing extra heat. I do not know if the lettuce can take that for several hours. Tomorrow, when the high hits 31 I will open the tunnel and see if any lettuce is worth picking (that is my intention, anyway). Then I will pick it all.
With any luck, most of the roots will survive the winter. As it warms up in a month or so, I'll pull the mulch away from the plants so the sun shining through the plastic can warm the soil and get the lettuce growing again. I might even plant some lettuce When I cleaned out one of the other beds last week, I saw that some of the lettuce that had been cut earlier had started to regrow. This  gives me hope of an early crop this spring.

I will let you know what I find tomorrow (or whenever I finally open the tunnel). In the meantime, enjoy these birdies.

Brrr!

Low of 1 degree (that is ONE degree) overnight. The lettuce stayed a relatively toasty 27 degrees.
Maybe I will be able to check on the lettuce on Friday, which has a forecast high of 32.
Stay tuned.