February 27

Saturday would have been a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  However, I had to wait until Sunday to snowshoe the weekly circuit. The weather was mostly cloudy with a temperature of 33 degrees and a light wind out of the west.  Before descending the hill toward Mallard Marsh, I gazed to the west and noticed how the recent snowfall had once again whitened the landscape. The fresh tracks on the trail told a familiar story of the comings and goings of both wildlife and human life. Walking through Bobolink Meadow, I saw a 2-ft.-diameter ant mound sticking up through the snow. I suspected the thousands of ants who lived there were still hibernating deep under the soil. I entered North Woods and followed another pair of snowshoe tracks down the trail. I stopped at the boardwalk to look and listen. Nothing was stirring, neither bird nor beast. Exiting North Woods, I circled around Succession Field and entered South Woods.  I followed the trail along the edge of Swanson’s Swamp and recalled how a few days ago I had spotted a small black spider walking on the snow.  Leaving South Woods, I made it up to Artist Overlook and stopped to observe a more seasonal winter scene compared to a snowless landscape of a week ago. Instead of continuing on the trail, I headed east down the hill and walked along the edge of Sora Swale. I continued across the field and was amazed to see so many Goldenrod galls. Hundreds of dried Goldenrod stems that poked up through the snow had these grape-size outgrowths on them. I stopped, broke one off and cut it open. Inside was a small cavity containing a white, 1/8 in.-long larva of the Goldenrod fly. This tiny maggot survived the cold by producing an anti-freeze like chemical. I planned to reseal the gall, take it back to the classroom and put it in a jar. I hoped that in the spring, the larva would burrow out of the gall, form a pupa and change into a fly that I could release.  I got back on south trail and headed toward Frog Fen. I turned north and climbed up Reflection Hill and saw some man-made holes in the ice on Grebe Pond where school children had previously collected water samples, some containing Caddis Fly larvae. Before leaving Reflection Hill, I recalled my surprise last week to find a 3/4 –inch, bristly, brown caterpillar of the Pearl Crescent Butterfly crawling on the snow. Next, I walked to the Classroom Building and noticed that the birdfeeders were busy once again. Finally, I jumped in the car, turned on the heater and headed for home.

A melancholy mantle rests


Upon the land; the sea.

The wind in tristful cadence moans


A mournful threnody.

There flits no gleeful insect,

No blithesome bee nor bird; 


0'er all the vast of Nature 


No joyful sound is heard.

In garments sere and somber


Each, vine and tree is clad:


It's dreary-hearted winter,


And all the earth is sad.

Hazel Dell Crandall

February 19

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  The mid morning weather was clear, with a temperature of 24 degrees and a strong wind out of the northwest.  With temperatures in the upper 30’s and 40’s much of the week, most of the snow had disappeared. However, since the vernal equinox was still a month away, I expected more seasonal weather to return. In addition, I was poised to see if this mid-February warm spell had aroused any early harbingers of spring. Before descending the hill toward Mallard Marsh, I stopped just west of the Storage Building and observed numerous mounds (I stopped counting at 50) of fresh black topsoil sticking up through the dormant lawn indicating the Eastern Ground Moles were on the move in their subterranean tunnels. Walking through Bobolink Meadow, I was startled by the sudden flapping of wings of a rooster and 2 hen pheasants as they took to flight only a few yards away. I hiked past the entrance to North Woods where I stepped on lots of wet, decaying Maple leaves. Passing Willow Wallow, I noticed how uneven the ice was from the recent freezing and thawing. Circling around the west side of Succession Field, I recalled how earlier in the week I was surprised to see some tiny mosquito-like insects called Winter Crane Flies hovering above the snow as well as landing on the snow. Even though they have a short lifespan since they do not have mouth parts (thus no feeding), they remain active in winter, mating and laying eggs. Arriving at Artist Overlook, I paused to see only a few small patches of snow scattered throughout the landscape and recalled how a week ago everything was covered with a thick layer of the white stuff.  I continued past Sora Swale and observed some wet tuffs of Cottontail rabbit fur on the trail indicating a previous predator-prey confrontation that was now evident since the snow had melted away. Continuing on south trail, I observed that only the south side of the path had snow on it since it was being shaded from the radiant heat of a southern sun by tall grasses. I ascended Reflection Hill and gazed on Grebe Pond and saw how its translucent surface was colored with brown and amber patches. I walked back toward the Classroom Building and noticed that the sledding hill was nothing but bare ground. I paused at the birdfeeders and observed that all the birds except the Finches had left to find more natural food sources.  Next, I walked over to Grebe Pond to make sure the ice was still safe for school field trips next week. Finally, since my 1 ½ -mile hike was over, I got in the car and started my 6-mile drive home.

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness


has replaced the meadows' wintry grey. 


Little rivulets of water changed


their singing accents. Tendernesses,


hesitantly, reach toward the earth


from space, and country lanes are showing


these unexpected subtle risings


that find expression in the empty trees.


Rainer Maria Rilke

February 13

Saturday would have been a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  However, our weekly saunter was postponed until Sunday afternoon. The weather was partly sunny with a temperature of 43 degrees and a steady wind out of the southwest. I got out of my car and walked east past the Storage Building. Before I descended the hill to Mallard Marsh, I paused to contemplate the western vista. Despite the warmer temperature, old man winter continued his strong grip on the Nature Area. Lots of snow still covered the dormant vegetation. Thick ice still sealed off the wetlands. Colors of the season still included brown meadows and black woodlots. There was no Chlorophyll in sight. Most signs of wildlife remained hidden. I turned at the entrance to North Woods and hiked south. At Willow Wallow, I observed lots of deer tracks crossing over the ice.  Continuing around Succession Field, I was surprised to hear the rustling of some dried leaves still clinging to a few small oaks next to the trail. I hiked up to Artist Overlook and paused to contemplate the eastern vista. Here too, winter continued its strong grip on the landscape. All trees and shrubs remained leafless except the evergreen trees far off by Brady Cemetery. Sora Swale remained frozen solid. The fields remained buried in deep snow. Most plants and animals were in no hurry to emerge from their winter retreat. Turning east, I noticed that with the white snow as background it was easy to spot the tiny seeds of Aster, Goldenrod and Wild Carrot that littered the trail. As I approached Frog Fen, I noticed, off in our neighbor’s field to the south, a family of a dozen or so wild turkey foraging among the corn stubble. From the top of Reflection Hill, Grebe Pond continued to appear lifeless and barren even though there was quite a bit of standing water on the ice due to the melting snow. Descending the hill, I observed tracks from the sleds made by school children participating in a field trip last week. Heading back to the Classroom Building, I noticed several clean-cut tops of twigs sticking through the snow indicating rabbits had eaten them.  I looked up to see a dozen or so Starlings perched high up in a Cottonwood tree. Next, I stopped and observed that the bird feeders needed to be filled. As I walked past the Classroom Building, I recalled how surprised I was earlier in the week to see a live Woolly Bear Caterpillar walking on top of the snow. Apparently, the anti-freeze chemical it produced was working quite well. I hoped it would survive until spring so it could form a cocoon and change into an Isabella Tiger Moth. Finally, It was time to depart this refuge and return to civilization.

Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white

And reigns the winter’s pregnant silence still

No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill,

And willow stems grow daily red and bright.

These are days when ancients held a rite


Of expiation for the old year’s ill,

And prayer to purify the new year’s will.

Helen Hunt Jackson

February 5

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  The late morning weather was partly cloudy with a temperature of 18 degrees and no wind. The storm earlier in the week had blanketed the nature area with a foot of snow including some deep drifts.  So, I put on my snowshoes and approached the bird feeders where I saw the usual avian guests. Just west of the feeders, I noticed lots of rabbit tracks and scat. Having decided to reverse my course, I passed the south side of the Classroom Building where I estimated the height of a snowdrift at nearly 4 feet. I continued south across Native Grassland where the snowy surface was covered with water-like ripple patterns created by the strong winds of a few days ago. I entered Brady Cemetery and walked up to one of the grave markers to pay my respects to the late Colonel James G. Brady who fought in the Civil War and farmed this land back in the 1800’s. While exiting the cemetery, I noticed how the snow around the base of the White Pine trees was pockmarked by bits of snow falling from the branches. Next, I headed due west past the “Road Ends” sign and followed the two-track along the edge of a field of corn stubble.  I turned north and was disappointed to see fresh snowmobile tracks on the trail. I wondered if the operator had not seen our “no motorized vehicles” sign. I paused at Artist Overlook to pan the pastoral winter scene. I entered South Woods just as the sun broke through the clouds and reflected off the glistening snow. Continuing along the trail, I observed where squirrels had burrowed under the boardwalk to retrieve their stored cache of nuts. As I walked along, I was puzzled to see a few pieces of rabbit fur next to the trail. Not finding any more fur or blood nearby, I wondered if an owl had swooped down from a tree and grabbed this animal during the night. Exiting South Woods, I continued around Succession Field and entered North Woods. I followed the trail east where I saw lots of deer tracks crisscrossing the trail. Because of the deep snow, these tracks included not only the usual imprints but also v-shaped grooves where the deer dragged their pointed hooves across the snow as they walked Also, I noticed the white snow was peppered with tiny bits of bark that had been shed from the overhanging tree branches. Exiting North Woods, I continued walking east through Bobolink Meadow. As I hiked up the hill from Mallard Marsh to the Storage Building, I noticed how quiet the abandoned property to the north was and recalled how just over a year ago this place was an active dairy farm with the corresponding sounds and smells.  Finally, I found my car, took off my snowshoes and headed for home.

Out of the bosom of the air,

Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, 

Over the woodlands brown and bare, 

Over the harvest-fields forsaken, 

Silent, and soft, and slow 

Descends the snow.

 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow