January 29

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a snowshoe hike with my dog, Remi.  The midday weather was cloudy with a temperature of 24 degrees and a gentle wind out of the northeast. Four inches of fresh snow had whitened the landscape once again. I passed by Mallard Marsh and noticed how the new snow clinging to the top of the vegetation in Bobolink Meadow reminded me of a cotton field. Walking toward North Woods, I recalled the thrill I had earlier in the week of sighting a Bald Eagle perched high in a treetop. I remembered approaching the majestic bird, watching it take off and clearly seeing its distinctive white head and tail feathers. I hiked past Willow Wallow and continued around Succession Field where I noticed several fresh deer tracks. The pattern of these tracks indicated that the deer were moving freely between North and South Woods on multiple paths. I planned to continue watching this pattern to see, if the snow gets any deeper like last winter, whether the deer would confine their movement to a few well-worn paths in order to conserve energy.  Moving past Artist Overlook, I turned and continued along the south trail toward Frog Fen where I turned again and hiked to the top of Reflection Hill. Instead of my usual route back to the Classroom Building, I followed a deer trail due east down Reflection Hill and stepped onto the ice of Grebe Pond.  The first thing I noticed was a small hawk (perhaps a Sharp-Shinned Hawk) flying south over the pond. Over the past few weeks, I have noticed this predator hanging around the bird feeders looking for some prey. I continued along the edge of Grebe Pond and stopped to examine the dense stand of Phragmites. As I stood next to these tall, bamboo-like reeds, I estimated some of them to be 12 ft. high.  Continuing on the ice toward the observation platform, I looked up into a large Cottonwood tree and observed, hanging from a branch, the sac-like nest of a Baltimore Oriole. I looked forward to seeing these colorful birds again in the spring as they return from their winter-feeding grounds.  As I headed to the Classroom Building, I observed to my left a large female Box Elder tree heavily laden with samaras. Before going to the car, I stopped to see what birds were at the feeders. Gold Finches were eating sunflower seeds and thistle from the tube feeders. Morning Doves, Cardinals, Juncos and Snow Buntings were eating a grain mixture from the ground. Downy Woodpeckers and Chickadees were eating from the peanut feeders and the suet cakes. Finally, it was back to the car and back to the house.

Bare branches of each tree


On this chilly January morn


Look so cold so forlorn.

Gray skies dip ever so low


Left from yesterday's dusting of snow.

Yet in the heart of each tree


Waiting for each who wait to see


New life as warm sun and breeze will blow, 


Like magic, unlock springs sap to flow, 


Buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow. 


 Nelda Hartmann

January 22

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  The mid-morning weather was mostly cloudy, snowy, a temperature of 8 degrees and a strong, gusty wind out of the south.  On this hike, I planned to focus on the sounds of winter, both natural and man-made. I did my best to tune in to every noise, no matter how subtle. Since my ability to hear well has diminished over the years, I wished I could have borrowed Remi’s acute sense of hearing.  As I started out, my questions were: How peaceful was the Nature Area in the depths of winter? What sounds would Mother Nature offer today? Before descending to Mallard Marsh, I was greeted by a chorus of chirping birds at the feeders including a squawking Blue Jay. Beginning my hike through a serene Bobolink Meadow, I picked up the rhythmic crunching sound of my boots walking over the hard snow. Hiking through peaceful North Woods, I paused by a vernal pond and could only hear the wind howling through the treetops. Also, I noticed how loud my footsteps were as I walked over the snow-covered boardwalk. As I circled Succession Field, the only sound I heard was the occasional jingling of metal tags on Remi’s collar as he walked behind me. I entered a very quiet South Woods where I could make out the faint sound of nylon rubbing together on my winter coat as my arms swayed back and forth. Next, I moved off the trail and walked onto the ice of secluded Swanson’s Swamp. I paused and closed my eyes to participate in nature’s version of a moment of silence that was only interrupted by a few tree branches creaking in the wind.  Hiking past Artist Overlook, I continued along the south trail where I could hear, amid the quietness, the subtle sound of my coat scraping against a thorny Bramble branch that was hanging over the trail. Up on Reflection Hill, my ears perked up to hear the twittering sound of a Morning Dove taking to flight. Next, I descended the hill and headed for the Classroom Building. As I approached the feeders, the sound of chirping birds grew louder. At the picnic tables, I decided to walk over to Grebe Pond where I stepped out on the ice to pause and ponder the solitude of this place. Hearing the distant call of a Common Crow was a good way to end the hike.  The quietude of the morning was broken by my car door slamming, the engine starting and the radio blaring. Finally, I headed for home with my ears tuned in, once again, to the sounds of modern technology.

Winter lays its somber hand


Upon earth and man, stirring


Thoughts of seasons past...


Its bitter winds blow, flipping


Through pages of time already


Written, its moments lived


And memories made, scattering


Leftover autumn, leaving me


To remember spring's cleansing


And summer's warmth... and


Another winter when breath stilled


In the beauty of its silence.

Myrna D. Badgerow

January 15

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a snowshoe hike with my dog, Remi.  The midday weather was partly sunny, a temperature of 24-degrees and a gusty wind out of the west.  Three inches of light, fluffy snow had fallen overnight to cover old tracks and create a fresh surface for new ones. I followed the trail passed Mallard Marsh and through Bobolink Meadow where I walked next to a few penny-sized Meadow Vole holes. I entered North Woods and continued along the trail where I observed a few squirrel tracks. In the distance, I could barely see a Red-Bellied Woodpecker fluttering from tree to tree.  Suddenly, far ahead, I noticed about a dozen deer racing north through the dense undergrowth. After exiting North Woods, I changed my usual route and turned east rather than west. I followed the trail along the edge of Willow Wallow and ascended Reflection Hill from the west.  I noticed how the wind had blown the dried grass that hung over the trail, back and forth to trace arching patterns on the soft snow. Circling Reflection Hill, I gazed across Grebe Pond and Rich Rd. to see the old white, weather-beaten house that had been vacant since last fall. Heading south, I descended Reflection Hill and hiked toward Brady Cemetery.  As I walked up the slope into the cemetery, I looked up to see the towering White Pines on either side of me. Proceeding into the cemetery, I came to a White Cedar tree where I pinched off a scaly, flat green twiglet, crushed it between my fingers and smelled its subtle fragrance. Moving a short distance away, I came to a Red Cedar tree. I repeated the same steps with one of its round, green twiglets. I noticed the cedar fragrance was even more subtle than the White Cedar’s. As I left the cemetery, I looked up to see a Red-Tailed Hawk soaring gracefully overhead. As it flew high above the cemetery, it was joined by another Red-Tailed Hawk, perhaps its mate. Next, I turned north and followed the trail through Native Grassland. From the east side of Grebe Pond I was surprised to see another large muskrat lodge that was hidden from my view on Reflection Hill.  Finally, I arrived back at the Classroom Building where I noticed the usual flurry of bird activity at the feeders.  For no apparent reason most of the Gold Finches, Snow Buntings, Juncos and Chickadees would suddenly retreat from the feeders to the safety of nearby Cherry trees, only to dart back a few seconds later. Finally, it was time to hop aboard the minivan and head for home.

Love awoke one winter’s night

And wander’d through the snowbound land,

And calling to beasts and birds


Bid them his message understand.

And from the forest all wild things


That crept or flew obeyed love’s call

And learned from him the golden words


Of brotherhood for one and all


Author Unknown

January 8

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  The morning sky was mostly clear, the air was still and the temperature was a frigid 8 degrees.  Starting out, I noticed all around me the winter vegetation was coated with a delicate layer of hoarfrost.  The noticeable silence of my surroundings was broken by my boots crunching on the cold snow as I walked. A few inches of snow covered the trail through Bobolink Meadow where I observed a mishmash of tracks including deer, mouse, rabbit, pheasant, dog and human.  Turning at North Woods, I headed south toward Willow Wallow where I had to watch my step to avoid a pile of deer scat.  Also, along the trail I noticed a few bare patches where the deer had scraped away snow looking for a few green blades of grass to eat. Hiking around Succession Field, I glanced up to see a few Fox Squirrel nests high up in the treetops. These clumps of dead leaves provide squirrels with much needed shelter from the cold and wind of winter. As I entered South Woods, I noticed off to the west a few small trees that still had their dead leaves attached. I hiked over and discovered they were American Beech trees. I suspected the dense woods surrounding these trees prevented the wind from blowing the leaves off. Leaving South Woods, I passed Artist Overlook where I saw a single deer running slowly east through the snow-covered field. It was easy to spot because its dark winter coat contrasted with the white background. Hiking along the south trail, I recognized the tracks of cross-country skis. Turning north at Frog Fen, I ascended to the top of Reflection Hill and gazed north to see ice-covered Mallard Marsh. Descending Reflection Hill, I checked the snow conditions for next week’s sledding activity. Before heading to the Classroom Building, I stopped by Grebe Pond to check the ice conditions for next week’s pond dipping activity. West of the Classroom Building I checked out the bird feeders and saw Goldfinch, Juncos, Snow Buntings, Morning Doves, Chickadees, Cardinals and a Downy Woodpecker pecking away at the suet. Finally, I ducked into the car, turned on the heater and headed for home.

In the bleak mid-winter 


Frosty wind made moan, 


Earth stood hard as iron, 


Water like a stone; 


Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow, 


In the bleak mid-winter,

Long ago

Christina Rossetti

January 2

Saturday would have been a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi. However, New Year’s Day festivities caused me to postpone my hike until Sunday morning. It was nice to return to the sites and sounds of the Nature Area after a long holiday break. Leaving the car, I was greeted by light snow flurries, a gusty west wind and a temperature of 20 degrees. Since most of the snow disappeared during the recent thaw, only a light dusting covered the trail. Looking west, I noticed, in the distance, the dark leafless treetops of North Woods silhouetted against a partly cloudy sky. As I walked through Bobolink Meadow, I observed some faint 3-toed Ringed Neck Pheasant tracks. Circling around the north end of Succession Field, I saw imbedded in the snow the familiar split-hoof tracks of the Whitetail Deer.  Walking along the west side of succession field, I observed a few Black-Capped Chickadees flittering among the trees. Entering South Woods, I noticed some Fox Squirrel tracks on the snow-covered boardwalk. Following the South Woods trail, I became aware of the variety of bark textures on tree trunks including the shaggy bark of the Hickory, the scaly bark of the Black Cherry, the smooth bark of the Ironwood and the prickly bark of the Hawthorn. Before leaving South Woods, I scared up a few deer. I’m amazed how these large mammals can run through the underbrush and barely make a sound. I hiked past Artist Overlook and continued along the south trail.  Instead of taking my usual route and turning toward Reflection Hill, I continued east past the tall White Pines in Brady Cemetery and turned north onto the Native Grassland. Even though everything was snow-covered and barren on this 10-acre plot, I hoped the warm-season grasses and wildflowers that we planted last summer will take off in the spring. Continuing along the east side of Grebe Pond, I meandered toward the big red barn and the end of another hike. Once in the car, I drove east down the driveway, past the row of six tall Norway Spruce and turned for home.

One must have a mind of winter


To regard the frost and the boughs


Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time


To behold the junipers shagged with ice,

The spruces rough in the distant glitter



Of the January sun; and not to think


Of any misery in the sound of the wind,

In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land


Full of the same wind


That is blowing in the same bare place


For the listener, who listens in the snow,

And, nothing himself, beholds


Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is

Wallace Stevens