a snowy day

Woke up to a couple of inches of snow covering Vermont like powdered sugar. Salt trucks on the road. Season of windshield washer fluid. The salt and sand is spread from the trucks in a circular fashion. When it melts through, there are semicircles of darkness left in the snow, like a parade of parentheses.

call

from Larry Meade on flickr

I was watching the 49er game last Sunday, and my friend Chris said that he had heard a bird on Thursday that one hears in the summer. I heard the same bird on Thursday as well. I have heard the same call during the winter the last three years. I thought it was a bird that had returned from the south. I understand from a woman at work that it's actually a black capped chickadee which is a bird that stays over the winter. What changes is the kind of call that's used. The usual call is a warning call while the newer call is a territorial or mating call in anticipation of spring. I heard another spring like call at work the other day. My co-worker said it sounded like a tufted titmouse.

"dead" of winter

Rainy. The other day I was driving to Proctor along the Otter Creek. I came upon this scene. There were hundreds of Canada Geese. I'd never seen anything like this before. I stopped to take a photo. The place was so vibrant and alive with the sights and sounds of wildness. Three ducks went flying over in their hell bent for leather manner. There was even some kind of raptor skulking around along the fringes. It is thrilling to experience these concentrations of life during the "dead" of winter.
I asked about it at work, and was told that during winters when there are patches of open water, ducks and geese will stay around. It was wonderful to see.

steam

 from quinn.anya on flickr

We've had some cold days. Ice forming on the Ira creek. Steam coming off the water. The other day I found my wool hat stuck to the frost forming at the bottom of the door jamb.

January thaw

We seem to be going through a January thaw. Squirrels out and about. Raining on top of ice which makes for slippery walking. Not burning wood during the day to save on the wood pile. Caterpillar ambling across the walkway at work, very slowly

the twins

from Utah Skies on Google Images

Windy. Saturday night was cold and clear. I went outside to do some star gazing. Wood smoke pouring out of the chimney. I was looking for some Caldwell objects, and one of them, NGC 2237, is located at the foot of the constellation Gemini; Castor & Pollux, the "Twins." Finding these Caldwell objects is a struggle for me, and I looked at Gemini for a long time. As I was looking, putting the celestial pieces together, I finally got it. I could really see the twins. They were holding hands, skipping their way across the night sky. I had that feeling that I often get from astronomy of the expanding of my heavenly universe, that I was welcoming the "Twins" into my personal neighborhood.

???

What color is snow anyway?

jump start

A dusting of snow. The Honda wouldn't start the other day when the temperature was 9 below. In Vermont during the winter months, you learn to park your car with the hood facing the road in case you need to jump start it. The other night when it got down to 3 below, I put the Honda in the garage, and left the Subaru outside. They both started in the morning. Saturday on the cross road, people were out walking. There were almost as many dogs as people.

a little bit of light

Clear and 3 below zero. Hoarfrost on the storm window. Sprinkling salt on the driveway. The snowplow spreading sand on Kahle Road. Bare ground again. There is a little bit of light in the sky now when leaving work.

silver gray

Windy. Salt on the car. The Green Mountains have turned a steel gray. The iced over ponds are bare of snow, and the silver gray color is evident. We had about a slushy inch of snow on the walkway at home, and I shoveled it off last night. It was the first time I've used the snow shovel all year.

smoke as time

One thing I've noticed here on the other side of the creek is how activities, sights, sounds, and other phenomena can be central to life, peripheral to life, or seemingly a million miles away.
During much of the year, our wood stove is peripheral at best. During the winter months, staying warm looms large, and the stove becomes a central focus of our lives.
For hundreds of years, the length of a round of meditation has been measured by the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn away. Time is measured in smoke, and glowing embers. Our winter season is calculated in much the same way. Time and BTU's are very much the same thing. On the days when I'm home, I will put two or three logs on the fire at a time because that seems to be the most efficient use of the wood. I can get more warmth out of each log. When we leave for work, we need to fill up the stove, however, in order to keep the house warm for the duration of our absence. Long experience has informed me that we use about 15 pieces of wood a day, and that the length of the winter season equates to three cords of wood, more or less.

The Snow Man

9 below zero this morning. Good time for this one.

The Snowman
by Wallace Stevens

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.

chickadees

 from juicyone on flickr

Rain. The chickadees are more prominent this time of year even though they are with us all year round. Part of the reason must be that there aren't many other birds to be seen in Vermont in January. They remind me of the finches in summer. They have such energy, verve, and joy. I honestly think they prefer the cold of winter, just like my son, John.

bloom

Snow. Birthday cake and breakfast in bed. The only down side is I share the day with Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern. Why couldn't it be Willie Mays or the Dalai Lama? Personally the time between my birthday and Allyn's on Feb. 20 has always seemed like the dead of winter. Here goes. Starting out anyway with a bloom on Allyn's cactus in the kitchen.

wood chips

Clear. Yak tracks spotted on the cross road. Skin turns scaly this time of year. Christmas tree observed along the side of the road. Two Christmas trees seen in the back of a pickup truck in Rutland. Probably heading to the recycling center to begin a new life as wood chips.

walk

Clear. Took a walk in the back on New Year's morning. Deer and rabbit tracks in the snow. Crow of a rooster from way across the valley. Spied a couple of ruffed grouse beneath a blackberry bush before they exploded from their hiding place and headed deeper into the woods.

My father considered a walk
among the mountains as the
equivalent of church-going.
Aldous Huxley
Zen page a day calendar

wolf moon

Full moon, the "Wolf" moon is tonight.

1/22/08
I realized the other day that there are two magical times in Vermont, in my opinion. The first is in late June when the fireflies are in full force. The second, believe it or not, is now with the appearance of the full moon in January, the "Wolf" moon. The light of the full moon on the snow makes it very bright. It is usually very cold and clear. The trees crack. The silence is deafening. I remember being out walking through the woods this time of year and looking up. It felt like I was at the bottom of the ocean looking up through large beds of kelp (trees actually) moving slowly with the currents. The "Wolf" moon is tonight!

embers

Cloudy. Colder weather brings a different kind of snow. It blows off the car in the morning like fluff from a dandelion. It drifts slowly out of the sky like feathers.  Out of state license plates appearing. The ski season is upon us. Glowing embers in the bottom of the wood stove.

For if there is a sin against life, it consists
in perhaps not so much in despairing of life
as in hoping for another life and in eluding
the implacable grandeur of this life.
Albert Camus
Zen page a day calendar

revealed

Cloudy. Salt on the walkway at work. It also finds its way onto carpeted hallways. Squeak of rubber soled shoes on ice and snow. As the temperatures got colder, I started looking around for my Green Bay Packers wool hat that I got at a game at Lambeau Field a number of years ago. Couldn't find it. It finally got cold enough the other day that I had to haul out the sweater I keep for such occasions at work. When I brought out the sweater. The cap was revealed underneath.

When it blows
this mountain wind
is fierce.
And when it doesn't blow
it doesn't blow.
Ikkyu
Zen page a day calendar

something old something new

One degree this morning. The half moon chasing the planet Jupiter across the night sky. Opening the new 2012 Zen Page a Day calendar. Taking Christmas cards down off the door at work. Start of the political season with the Iowa Caucus. Leftover Christmas cookies in the cafeteria at work.

A cold evening in my empty room.
Time flows by like incense smoke.
Outside my door, a thousand stalks of bamboo.
Above my bed, how many books?
The moon appears to whiten half my window.
Ryokan
Zen page a day Calendar

light

Cloudy and cold. We've actually had relatively warm weather lately. Squirrels out and about. I've even seen some dandelions popping up. Dumping ash from the wood stove in the back yard, snowflakes buzzing about like gnats. The snow seems to give off its own light.

a new year

Cloudy. The start of a new year. Happy Birthday John! Happy New Year greetings in the supermarket. Christmas items available in bargain bins. Half off calendar sale in the mall. Football games galore.

Nothing ever gets anywhere.
The earth keeps turning round
and gets nowhere. The moment
is the only thing that counts.
Jean Cocteau
Zen Page a Day Calendar