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