March 3

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi. The early morning weather was mostly cloudy with a temperature of 31 degrees and light snow flurries driven by a strong westerly wind. Before descending the hill, I paused to view the western landscape dusted by an early morning snow. I walked briefly and stopped by Mallard Marsh where I recalled the leaping Leopard frogs of summer and wondered where they were now. Leopard frogs typically hibernate underwater. A common misconception is that they spend the winter the way aquatic turtles do, dug into the mud at the bottom of a pond or stream. In fact, they would suffocate if they dug into the mud for an extended period of time. However, they must be near oxygen-rich water and spend a good portion of the winter just lying on top of the mud or only partially buried. They may even slowly swim around from time to time. Next, I hiked through Bobolink Meadow and entered North Woods where I followed the trail west and saw a few deer tracks. Before exiting the woods, I spotted my first Robin of the season as well as a Tufted Titmouse and a Chickadee. I exited the woods and stopped by to look at the deer carcass. I proceeded around Succession Field where the trail was flooded from heavy overnight rain. I entered South Woods and followed the trail along the edge of Swanson Swamp. Before exiting the woods, I spotted some Raccoon tracks on the boardwalk. I exited the woods and passed Artist Overlook where the light snow had created an interesting pattern on the grassy trail. Walking along the edge of Sora Swale, I noticed Remi’s footprints in the snow as he walked in front of me. I continued on the south trail and fondly recalled seeing some Monarch Butterflies here last fall. Their annual migration is a unique and amazing phenomenon. Some fly as far as 3,000 miles to reach their winter home in the Sierra Madre Mountains of Mexico where they roost in Oyamel Fir forests at an elevation 11,000 feet. To stay warm, tens of thousands of them can cluster on a single tree. Next, I came to Frog Fen, turned north and noticed a few pheasant tracks on the trail. Climbing Reflection Hill, I paused to view Grebe Pond. Suddenly, the open water on the north end exploded as 5 Mallards and 2-dozen geese took off and flew overhead. A couple of geese remained behind walking on the thin ice. Descending the hill, I arrived at the Classroom Building where I checked out the bird feeders. Finally, it was time to get in the van and head for 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