my place

Came out of the house the other day, and there was a robin screaming at me. I've been here for over 30 years. I thought this was my place. My sister-in-law, Gay, says she has the same problem.

March 25, 2008
A couple of revealing moments about life in a cold climate. This morning on our morning walk we ran into Barb, and we all remarked about how it was getting light out. About two minutes later, we were walking by the Dufner's house. I heard a high pitched repetitive sound. I couldn't figure out what it was. It sounded like maybe a squeaky fan might be running in their basement. It finally dawned on me what it was. It was a solitary bird, singing to the rising sun. In a few weeks there will be hundreds of them doing the same thing. It has been so long since I have heard that sound. It seemed like a miracle!
To a lesser degree, I experienced the same feeling yesterday walking to  production. The snow on the front lawn has been receding, and it disappeared completely over the weekend. That which had been covered with snow and invisible for so long was revealed. Again, it seemed like a miracle.
On the one hand, there's something a little pathetic about living in a place where a singing bird is considered a miracle. On the other hand, it's a gift. Complacency is one of the great killers of the joy of living. Living in a cold climate continues to offer opportunities to appreciate and savor the small miracles of life. In many ways that is the heart of this daily journal. Opossum seen along the road in West Rutland last night.

thermodynamics

Here in the north country, there are always interesting lessons in thermodynamics at this time of year. There are places where the snow is gone. There are places where the snow remains. It is interesting to try to figure out the why's. The angle of the terrain in relation to the sun is a big factor. Snow on south-facing slopes goes away more quickly than snow on north-facing slopes. What are the impacts of sun, wind, and shade? Many areas around buildings show less snow than areas nearby, showing the power of the sun reflecting off of these same buildings. There is a road nearby that runs north and south through a narrow valley. The snow on the west-facing slope disappears faster than the snow on the east-facing slope. I think it's due to the interaction of temperatures and sunlight. The west-facing slopes receive direct sunlight during the afternoons when temperatures are highest. East-facing slopes receive direct sunlight during the mornings when temperatures are lower. It's all very interesting to me.

We ought to view ourselves with the same curiosity and openness with which we study a tree, the sky, or a thought, because we too are linked to the entire universe.
Henri Matisse
Zen page-a-day calendar

miso soup

The lane has turned into substance somewhat akin to miso soup. Buds appearing on the trees. 

stirring

Bluebirds spotted in the back clustering around the bird house. Blue Jays fighting for nesting spots along the forest edge. Woodchuck scampering along the back field. Things are stirring.

If you notice anything,
it leads you to notice more and more.
Mary Oliver
Zen page-a-day calendar

early spring

Cold, dark, wet, and foggy. Feels like the world is giving birth to itself.

Transition from winter to spring produces some interesting snow patterns. Combination of snow and bare ground have often reminded me of the coat of an appaloosa.

There can also be a "rounding" or softening of the snow banks where it meets up with bare ground, particularly of the wet variety.

snow

Snow at this time of year is sometimes called "poor man's fertilizer." It's called a lot of other things, too.