Surreal

Friday morning I woke to 15 inches of new snow. I have lived here for eleven winters now, and I have never seen a single snowstorm like this. Oh wait...this isn't winter anymore. This is April. Last year at this time I was spending my work days riding around in boats on open water.

School was canceled, and there was no way my Ford Focus was going to make it out the driveway or our back road, which didn't get plowed until late in the afternoon. So I emailed the office, saying I would not be in, and settled down to a cup of coffee and checking the news online...something about a manhunt in Boston

All day Friday had a surreal, dreamlike quality to it. I usually relish a day at home, but I had a hard time settling down to do anything. I was disoriented, not by the national news, but the mound of snow pressing against my back door, snow that had slid off the metal roof. After a long Minnesota winter, just when robins have arrived and normally I'd be hearing the frog chorus...the relentless snow, the woodpile buried and almost gone, how much more can one take? I'm beyond the trite complaining that has become a staple of Minnesota culture, the resolve of those who say they hate it here but somehow can never bring themselves to pick up and leave. I love it here; I have lived other places, and this is the only place I'll ever call home. But with the flood and the April snow all within the space of a year, the moose near the Canadian border dying off at an alarming rate, intense windstorms leveling forests just to the south of here, I get this uneasy feeling that this is the beginning of a long storm to come, a storm we humans have helped to create...I'll come back to that later.

While the Boston Marathon bombing was a horrible, malicious act, I have been disturbed by the media coverage surrounding it. Sure, the news outlets have a job to do, but it seems lately none of them have the grace to say "we don't know yet." Speculation, intimidation. And Twitter, so I can hear the latest unfounded speculation. And while yes, this was big, Boston is not the center of everyone's universe, and this was not a national crisis. That's just what a terrorist would want us to think.

What's more, it seems the media had this double standard of wanting to make us scared, yet highlighting acts of "bravery" that make us feel all warm and fuzzy about ourselves. Is it really news that people rushed to aid others rather than running away? Absolutely not; it's human nature! Is it surprising that we have not de-evolved into a society where it's every person for him/herself? I'm not surprised. And I bet people weren't "cowering in fear" all day Friday when the authorities ordered the city of Boston shut down. It was a wise thing to do from a public safety standpoint; the fewer vehicles out on the road in the event of a high speed chase, the better. Law enforcement did their job, and it is one of the toughest jobs in the world. I understand their elation at having brought an end to this drama, but it was not exactly an occasion for cheers and high fives. Save that for when the Bruins win the Stanley Cup.

My point, and I do have one, is this: Why, when people are hurt and a threat by "terrorists" to our security is perceived, does it result in such drama, but when injury is perpetrated on our home, our habitat, our environment, in the name of profit for a few, do we turn away, or justify it, or maybe take a little feel good, symbolic action? This happens every day, and our society has marginalized those who can see the damage as "environmental wackos". This planet is our one and only chance to prove we can sustain ourselves; we ain't going to start a colony on Mars to save the damage we've caused here. It's a grand experiment, and so far it's been bought out by short sightedness and greed. We can do better. Maybe.

I for one could do with a little less global warming. These April blizzards and historic floods are really getting to me.

More high water in Minnesota

Less than a month ago I was writing about the local flood we had here on Sand Creek. Now it seems like nothing; one road washed out in one place, and was fixed by noon the next day. Compare that with what happened last week in Duluth, MN, just fifty miles north of here. With up to ten inches of rain Tuesday night, the city's streets, creeks, and storm sewers were overwhelmed. If you are not familiar with Duluth, it is a beautiful city located at the westernmost point of Lake Superior. Much of the city is on a hillside that drops over 600 feet from the edge of the hill to the lakeshore. When you live on a hill with a marvelous lake view, you don't think about floods too much. Hardly anyone saw this coming. Streets are collapsed or washed away, houses are moved off foundations, and a couple of seals from the Duluth Zoo almost had the chance to make Lake Superior their home.

We go to Duluth once a month or more for shopping or more fun stuff. I have not been there since the flood; our main route into the city runs next to the St. Louis River and was under water for a while.






On Wednesday I was shocked to hear the news from Duluth. What I did not realize was that a lot of rain also fell on the headwaters of two local rivers, the Moose Horn and the Kettle. We "only" had about two inches of rain that night; Sand Creek was high but not nearly as high as it was three weeks ago. But there was a huge gradient in rainfall in less than thirty miles to the northwest, with six to eight inches falling in places with the ground already saturated from previous storms.

The Kettle River, pictured above at Highway 23 near the kids' school, crested Friday morning at a level that beat the previous record, set in 1972, by two feet. The bridge in the picture is the one I sit under sometimes and play flute, with the water a good six feet below me.






I have some friends who live on the shores of the Kettle River. I'm sure they never imagined water reaching the tops of their kitchen cabinets; after all, it had never even been close. While they will keep their house, they are faced with a long and expensive cleanup. There are people in the town of Moose Lake who are not so lucky; their homes are beyond repair. No one thought this would ever happen.

So many weird weather events, so little time, and lives are changed in an instant. Is this the new normal?

The Great Flood of 2012

Just when you think you've seen everything and you think your day will be perfectly normal...

...you walk outside in the morning and your driveway looks like this!

It rained a lot last night. The Hermit and I were home alone, the older two kids were camping about 20 miles east of here, and Joe was at a friend's house about ten miles downstream on Sand Creek. We were worried at times about the campers, with severe thunderstorm warnings all around, but they texted us that they were okay.

It had also rained a lot last Wednesday night, 3-4 inches. The creek was up, and Vinny's baseball playoff game got postponed from Thursday to Friday due to wet baseball fields.

I think we got about 4 inches last night too, but I never put two and two together until I saw the driveway this morning. The creek had overflown its banks, and was flowing through the old horse pasture to the right in the photo, the very place where I was going to put a garden but decided not to. The pond, meanwhile, had risen to meet the creek.

After I put on waders to investigate, I found myself wading through above knee deep water on the driveway. Wow, I thought, as reality started to sink in. We were flooded in!

The house is high and dry, so we are okay there. However, Sand Creek has to be a good 4 or 5 feet above normal. No one around here has ever seen it like this. We had to load bales of hay in the canoe and take the canoe out to the road and have a neighbor drive out to the horse pasture to feed the horses.

The horses had a small area of high ground to stand on. And see the baby horse in the photo? That is one of the many things I need to blog about.

The water rose a bit throughout the morning, and I used the canoe to bring a bicycle out to the road so I could survey the area. The road a half mile north of here was washed out in a low spot between two old gravel pits. There were county workers hauling loads of gravel and working on this holiday to make the road passable. Sort of. That same road is under water in at least four places.

One of our canoes had been parked along the creek bank, a good two feet above normal water level. As I was riding in the back of the neighbors' pickup truck to feed the horses, I noticed the canoe, on the other side of the road, lodged in some alders on what used to be the creek bank. Vinny and Nina were able to rescue the canoe, and the paddles were still inside!

It looks like the kids and I will be having a day off from work and school tomorrow. It rained and hailed again this afternoon, and I doubt we will be able to get out of the driveway until late tomorrow at the earliest. Joe is staying another night at his friend's house; they are having flooding issues there too. But I am thankful everyone is okay, and that the house is on high ground!

dreaming of a brown Christmas

Has it been over a month already since I've posted? 2011 will certainly not go down as a big blogging year for me. Yes, I'm still thinking of ideas for blog posts all the time, and there is always something interesting going on here to write about. But then there's this big disconnect between experiencing something, forming the words to describe it, getting to a medium where I can jot those words down for later use, and actually sitting down at the computer and connecting with Blogger. I've been going through my archives, and from what I see there it didn't used to be this difficult. Of course back then I didn't have teenage kids monopolizing the computer, and I didn't have Facebook for those moments I would have jotted down a quick blog post just to let the world know something.

This morning I have the computer to myself, finally. I stayed home from work with a bit of a sore throat and cold, just enough that work would have been somewhat miserable. I'm kind of glad to have a "me" day. The Hermit was out of town all last week, and between tending the wood stove and driving to various kids' activities, I didn't have much spare time. Fortunately the weather was very mild for December, even though some of the days were dark and gray, so heating was not a major issue. This has been one of the mildest Decembers I can remember, and what little snow we have has come an inch or so at a time. That means occasionally conditions on the pond have been perfect for ice skating, something I did not get to enjoy last year.

Christmas spirit is running at perhaps an all time high this year. Vinny found a very nice balsam fir on our property, and took it upon himself to cut it, bring it inside, and set it up by himself. Nina and Joe joined in for the decorating. I decided to make up for all the years I thought about making Christmas cookies but didn't get any further than that. Three batches done so far, about eight to go.

Brewing is also being done at the rate of about one five gallon batch a week. You'd think I'd have a lot of beer sitting around ready for consumption at that rate, but oddly enough it seems to disappear as soon as it has sat in bottles long enough to build carbonation.

Here's Frisky, official mascot of "Sixteen Pound Siamese Brewery", overseeing the transfer of a wheat beer from fermenter to carboy.

That's the news from Sand Creek for now. Come to think of it, it feels pretty good to be blogging again. I'll be back soon.

Weather and politics are making me surly...

Another Monday at home. While I rather enjoyed the first couple weeks of the MN state government shutdown, I am getting a little antsy about my extended vacation. I can apply to get my first unemployment check this week, but if there is a budget agreement this week and it includes back pay to July 1st, I would just have to pay it back. So I'll wait another day or so...

It's not the money that's bothering me. I'm saving about $50 a week on gas, cutting back on household expenses, and making do with back pay and The Hermit's income. And while I basically like my job, I am not going stir crazy being away from it and my coworkers. I try to not let my job define my life. And if there is one thing this vacation period has shown me, I have a life outside of my job that is much more meaningful than earning a paycheck.

What bothers me is that, while Governor Mark Dayton pulled what I think was an incredibly savvy move and agreed last Thursday to the Republican legislative majority's budget plan, MINUS a few social agenda issues that I do not think should ever be part of a budget bill, the legislators have continued with business as usual, bickering, dragging their feet, and complaining about the legislation THEIR party drafted. They are basically holding 22,000 state employees hostage, not to mention those that depend on suspended services. Dayton will not call a special session to end the budget stalemate until all the ducks are in a row so to speak, which I think is wise governing, because with the pathetic toddlers we have in office, a special session without said ducks in a row could turn ugly. So I may return to work later this week. Or not. I never thought it could come to this.

By the way, my state senator and representative are both Democrats, very much involved in the community and good examples of responsible elected officials. I was in a school/community musical last fall with the wife of Senator Tony Lourey, their three children, and the granddaughter of Representative Bill Hilty. I am proud to know them and to have voted for them. I am glad that they are not part of the party that created this fiasco.

So here I sit at home. It's better, however, than being out working in chest waders on a lake this week. The whole state of Minnesota is experiencing a high pressure system producing heat and humidity that has not been seen in years. It is 91 degrees here now, with humidity off the charts. This is expected to last throughout this week. I have complained about frost in July before; this is just another turn of Minnesota weather. We even have an air conditioner now. I have never thought one would be of much use here, maybe one or two days a year. However, my stepson Ryan happened to have one that would not fit any of his windows, so he loaned it to us. It would not fit any windows in the house, so we put it in the cabin. It is a mixed blessing. It provides a thermal refuge, but it makes it that much harder to go outside or to the house and face the reality of summer. Summer here is so short anyway, I won't complain, but I can't even play my mandolin because of the humidity!

So I'll end on this note: When the going gets tough, the tough get Surly. Surly beer, that is. Perhaps the only good thing that came out of this year's MN legislative session was a bill that allowed this successful MN microbrew to sell their own beer at a proposed brewery/restaurant. Imagine that! That such a proposal had any opponents is living proof that we have not reached the age of political enlightenment. Yet. Until then, I'll sit back, enjoy the show, and sip a Surly CynicAle. Perfect. Or maybe I should just forget state work and apply for a job at Surly. :)

Minnesota weather...just follow the bouncing ball

As I sit here in the very un-air conditioned cabin, it is probably about 90 degrees. The Twin Cities had a record high of at least 103 degrees for this date, so I should be thankful I'm at least in the outer reaches of the Lake Superior cooling effect. But if I remember correctly, and I do have a short memory when it comes to these things, we had frost last week. And, lows in the 30's are predicted by the end of the week. So it's a good thing half the garden is still a jungle and the beautiful heirloom tomato plants my neighbor Patty gave me are not in the ground yet.

Does anyone from Minnesota (Lynne?) remember the Northwestern National Bank Weatherball? In the days before the Internet and instant weather updates, the bank had a cool idea: build a gigantic neon ball atop your building, come up with some catchy slogans ("Blinking white- cold weather is in sight), and there--you're a Minneapolis icon! I remember I even had a plastic coin bank with a replica of the weatherball. Unfortunately, the bank building was damaged beyond repair in a Thanksgiving Day 1982 fire that was caused by arson in the neighboring vacant Donaldson's department store building. The bank became NorWest, then Wells Fargo, and the weather ball was no more.

I thought about the weather ball today and the wisdom it might hold. I would have had another code for it: Weather ball is pink--don't blink. The weather will change in a minute!

I do have a blog post in mind about a great weekend, which involved, among other things, the most ukuleles I have seen in one place at one time. But that will have to wait.

The first of March (or, my annual optimistic spring-is-almost-here post)

The first day of March should be considered a holiday. I’m talking a full blown, no holds barred celebration complete with music, dancing, bonfires, and revelry!

Why, you may ask, especially if you live a lot closer to the equator than I do. Why? The official explanation is that the first of March is considered to be the first day of “meteorological spring”. That is, the typical coldest 90 days during the calendar year, December 1-February 28, are behind us.

In my mind, winter officially loses its death grip when the calendar page turns over. Yes, we may still have some nights of subzero temperatures, and you can expect a snowstorm or two. But when March arrives, whether as a lion or a lamb, the weather is guaranteed to get warmer. Sooner rather than later. Snow will melt on a sunny day and freeze with a solid crust at night. Patches of open ground will be revealed. The cool sweet smell of damp earth will permeate the air at twilight.

The warmth of the sun and the motion of flowing water will work together to break through the fragile ice on the Kettle River. The newly opened patches of water will attract a pair of trumpeter swans or Canada geese or hooded mergansers. Kestrels and red winged blackbirds will appear over every marsh and field as the tawny grasses emerge from their winter snow cover.

And I will emerge once again from what always seems like the long sleep of winter. I will plant seeds, which is after all one of the most optimistic acts in the world. I will bask in the warmth of a sunny afternoon at the south facing window by the wood stove, and not know which is warming me more. In my hands will be a musical instrument playing tunes that seem just a bit more lively than I played a month ago.

Then I will go outside, running, laughing, filling my lungs with cool air at sunset. And so it begins again, as it always does.

February thaw

Garrison Keillor had a great observation on "A Prairie Home Companion" yesterday. While I don't recall the exact wording, it went something like this:

It's a fact of human psychology. When you're someplace cold and the weather is warmer than what's expected, it always feels warmer than when you're someplace warm and it's colder than expected.

That would explain why I was sitting out on the deck in short sleeves yesterday drinking a Hop Ottin' and watching the afternoon sun disappear behind the pines. It was 35 degrees.

Of course, I was basking in the afterglow of some outdoor physical activity, brought on by the warm sunny weather. Sometime in the middle of the afternoon I had the urge to go running. I had not been running in oh, several months or so, at least since school started in September. Why? I don't really know. Lack of time I'm sure had something to do with it, but also lack of motivation. I wish I could explain the lack of motivation part. Running always feels incredibly good to me, and it has done great things for my body over the last three years. But for some reason, last summer and fall I wasn't really into it. Oh well. There's always a chance for a new beginning.

I only ran up to the corner and back, about 1.2 miles. I was going to go farther, but my rational brain told me that probably was not a good idea considering the above paragraph. So I went that far, and it felt just right. Pretty good, as a matter of fact. So good that when I got back I saw the big step ladder, and the shovel, and the foot and a half of snow on the cabin roof, and thought it would be a good time to get some of that snow weight off of there, before ice dams and leakage and all that good stuff set in. I went up, and actually had a good time. The part of the roof that needed shoveling is not steep at all, hence the need to shovel, so I was not worried about falling. Calvin joined me, which was a good thing because there was a LOT of snow up there, more than one person could comfortably handle. We got the job done in the afternoon sunlight and relative warmth, and it was nice being up on the roof, enjoying the view.

After the roof was done, I rewarded myself with the Hop Ottin' IPA, from Anderson Valley Brewing Company in California (just up the road from that nice beach where the photo in the last post was taken). But I swear it wasn't the beer, even though it probably had something to do with it, but for the longest time that afternoon I felt better than I had in  LONG time. My whole body just felt warm and tingling and alive. That feeling lasted into the evening when at last I stepped inside, sat in front of the wood stove with another beverage, and listened to "A Prairie Home Companion" broadcasting live from Bemidji, MN, which is even more of an icebox than here.

Of course, payback is hell. Today I'm hurting in places I haven't hurt in a long time. I am so anxious to continue my running, to feel the way I felt yesterday, but as the earth thaws and the sunlight returns I know the time to do that will return also. Yesterday was just an appetizer.

winter is here

I spent the morning taking care of unfinished summer business while the snow fell, like bailing water out of a canoe and kayak and turning them over on shore. I guess this is to be expected for this time of year, but last week's 60 degree weather had me thinking there would be more time.

This is going to be a busy week. Dress rehearsal for "Hello Dolly" is tomorrow evening, complete run-through rehearsals on Monday and Tuesday, and a morning performance for the elementary school on Wednesday. Then evening performances Thursday-Saturday, and a matinee on Sunday. So unless I find something really unusual to blog about, see you a week from tomorrow!

"an extratropical cyclone of rare intensity"

We Minnesotans like to talk about the weather. At my workplace there is often an undeclared competition over who had the lowest overnight temperature, or the most rain in the rain gauge. But don’t think for a moment that we would dare call two days of gusty winds, heavy rain, and even snow by a name as exotic as “cyclone”. We get blizzards here, not hurricanes. This enhanced satellite picture, taken at about 4:30 Tuesday afternoon, sure looks like a hurricane, though! And I was just south of the eye.

I had been hearing since Monday that rain and heavy winds were expected starting Tuesday. The Hermit spent the day bringing wood in the house and putting tarps over outdoor wood piles. The rain began Tuesday morning, and all afternoon I had the strange sensation that my sinuses were about to explode. This was due to the record low air pressure that was making its way across northern Minnesota. By afternoon the wind was starting to pick up.

Starflower and I had play practice in the evening, and indoors we could hear the wind blasting the upper level of the auditorium as the rain pounded the roof. Meanwhile, out on the football field, our high school’s team was battling the extreme conditions and came out with a 48-0 victory in their first playoff game. Go Eagles!

Our drive home was interrupted by a large spruce that had fallen and was blocking the road. It had to be a good two feet in diameter at the base. I had to take a three mile detour, all the while thinking about trees, wind, and power lines. I was happy to see the lights still on at my house when I finally pulled into the driveway.

The rain fell late into the night, occasionally driven like nails drumming on the steel roof. I found out the highest wind gusts were over 40 miles per hour here, and may have even hit fifty. However, the strong frame of the house barely shook. Some time over night the rain turned into sleet, then snow, and I woke to an inch or two covering the ground, and still coming down. When I looked out at the rain gauge in the morning I could tell there was already more than two inches of rain.

By the time the rain stopped Wednesday afternoon, there was five inches in the rain gauge. I found out on the National Weather Service Web site that Askov, the town where the spruce fell, had the highest total precipitation for the storm, at 4.94 inches.

The Kettle River and all the local creeks were swollen like I'd never seen them before. Not even in the spring has the water ever been this high on Sand Creek since I've lived here. This photo, a mile upstream from my house was taken yesterday, after the water had gone down a bit.

The water was so high the three 3-foot culverts under the road were completely submerged. The flow created vortexes like this one on the upstream side at each culvert. One dead end road to the east of my house was completely under water.

And I have a new pond, for now! The water had already gone down quite a bit when I took this photo yesterday. Needless to say, Sally's Pond is as full as it gets, but it was already in the shadows and I could not get a good photo of it.

The good news is, we did not lose any of our large white pines in the wind, and the house is still high and dry. A cyclone in Minnesota...What will they think of next?

surreal...

Mr. Attitude called me outside to see this extraordinary scene this evening.

spring sightings

The pond is almost ice free. I would say totally but it's supposed to get pretty cold tonight so more ice will form. And the culvert under the driveway is still plugged by ice or something else. No more water has entered the equation, and there is not significant rain in the forecast, so I'm just hoping it thaws soon.

Today I finally spotted a pair of sandhill cranes flying, while I was commuting home. Kestrels have arrived, and northern harriers once again amaze me with their beautiful, effortless flight. And I saw the first turkey vulture soaring above the town of Sandstone today. Turkey vultures make me think of Lynne. Not that she's a "vulture" in the sense of the popular definition, far from it, she is a beautiful, fun, caring person who happens to have a personal affinity for the oft maligned turkey vulture. I like them too.

My lawn tractor arrived yesterday. I took it out for a spin, and I admit John Deeres are pretty nice. Calvin and Starflower have been taking turns driving it around the yard. I hope the enthusiasm continues once I assign them various tracts of land to keep mowed this summer!

At work, I have been practicing the Zen of fish net mending. It is really kind of fun once you learn how to do it right. Fun, that is, unless one is subjected to a radio station blaring '80s rock music, or political discussions between my coworkers. I forgot to bring my iPod today. I will definitely remember tomorrow.

Our blessedly warm March is turning colder for a few days. That will give me an excuse to not go running. I have not been feeling the running bug lately. Same with music. On one level it irritates me that I can't seem to rise beyond that, but on another level maybe I need to take it easy and approach it again in a few days. Whatever. I wish I, like the kids, had a week's spring break to look forward to after tomorrow. I'll take a couple days off if work doesn't heat up. If it's just net mending, it can wait.

dude, where's my culvert?

I think I can say unequivocally that ice skating season is over. Actually this year we did not get out skating once. The ice formed, then enough snow fell before the ice was thick enough to support its weight so there was slush. Then slush froze into hard bumps that even the best Zamboni would not be able to resurface.

The ice has been retreating at a pace unusual for March. The weather lately has been a blessing for a winter weary soul (and a blessing for our heating bill, which could use a break). Yesterday and today above 60 degrees = unbelievable (but very likable). I think after the last few years we deserve a March like this.

This fast meltdown and runoff has posed a bit of a problem though, and it's not just the mud in the driveway, which may go away sooner than normal if this continues. The problem is, the pond is at record high water levels. That means that at some point, water is not flowing out of the pond.

This is a view directly below the pond outflow culvert. So water is flowing through that one fine. But there is another culvert, underneath our driveway. There is lots of water above the driveway, but little below. A-ha.

I decided to investigate this matter today instead of going for a run. The pond outflow runs north through the outflow culvert and the driveway culvert. This is an important fact: The driveway shades the outflow below it so that thawing happens more slowly. I entered the ditch north of the driveway, and at first could not even see any sign of a culvert. Then, as I examined more closely, I saw, just above the surface of an ice pack, a curved form that looked like the top of a culvert. I chipped out some ice with a heavy spud bar (ice chisel) and it did indeed appear to be the culvert I was looking for.

I continued to chip away at the ice, thinking perhaps I could break through. I could have broken through, with unlimited strength. The ice was still sturdy and unrelenting, and finally I gave up with the idea that I had speeded the process. Just a little.

I am not too concerned at this point. Most of the snow has melted, and the pond is as high as it is going to get. Unless, of course, we get a couple inches of rain in one night. Then maybe we would be faced with a driveway washed away, unable to drive anywhere, huge excavating bill to get things back to normal. Nope. Don't even want to go there.

Hopefully another day or two of this wonderful weather will resolve the problem.

the hill run

I have been easing myself back into running for the last week or so, and it feels great to be out there on the thawing gravel road right around sunset. Today I took a turn from my usual run, which is relatively flat, and climbed up some 70 feet of glacial moraine terrain in the first half. 70 feet might not sound like much to you mountain dwellers, but it provided a challenging workout for me. And I was up to the challenge! 3.2 miles total, and I didn't think of checking the clock when I went out but it was well under an hour.

High temps in the 40's predicted all week, with lows above freezing and maybe rain tomorrow. Snow is disappearing fast, and mud is everywhere. Welcome Spring!

After the Christmas Blizzard

On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day we received a total of about a foot of snow. With weather forecasts being what they are these days, this storm was not unexpected; one would have had to have been completely cut off from modern communications to not know it was coming. So most folks, ourselves included, stayed in for the night and day and enjoyed being together and playing with some pretty cool new toys. ;)

This morning I tried out my Christmas present: a lightweight pair of waterproof, Thinsulated hiking boots. I hadn't thought about it, but my old clunky, felt-lined Sorel pac boots were over twenty years old, and while they work just fine for trudging outdoors, they are, well, clunky. I can't walk fast or run in them. Decked in fleece lined cross country ski pants, long underwear shirt, down parka, hat, mittens, wool socks, and new boots, I set out for a walk. We hadn't taken the snow blower to the driveway yet (it's being done as I speak), but I followed one set of packed down tire tracks. The snow plow had been by on the road, so the end of the driveway had a nearly impassable mound of snow, and there was about another two inches of fresh snow on the road. A light snow was still falling, but it's not supposed to amount to more than an inch or so today.

Sand Creek was mostly open, due to yesterday's warm (nearly 40 degree) temperatures. I walked north across the creek for a while, then turned around and headed south past our driveway and down the road a quarter mile or so. After spending the better part of the last two days indoors, the fresh air felt good to me. I paused once in a while to hear the bird activity in the woods, the chatter of chickadees, the yawping of a pileated woodpecker, and the raucous cries of blue jays. I heard and saw a flock of white winged crossbills as I was walking back up the driveway.

My new boots worked very well. They kept my feet toasty warm, and there's nothing worse than having cold feet on a winter's day. I could even run in them, and I ran a short distance, but I think I'll break them in a little more before I do some serious winter running. One of our cool Christmas toys was Wii Fit Plus, and if I can book a time slot in front of the cool new TV I may try it out, but I think my Wii Fitness program will mostly be outdoors. :)

The warm house felt inviting when I came back indoors, and I spent a few minutes drinking coffee (flavored with a splash of Bailey's) and watching birds at the feeder. The snowstorm has brought flocks of goldfinches to the feeders, but there were a couple of birds that were more acustomed to hopping around on the ground, scratching for seeds:

American tree sparrow

The pictures don't do justice to their exquisite markings and subtle colors.

The holiday is over, and I still have a whole lazy weekend ahead of me! Time to finally pick up a musical instrument or two. Monday is the Pine County Christmas Bird Count, and I'm looking forward to a great day with some good birding friends.

warm November days

The pond has had a skim of ice on it a couple of mornings, maybe even today, although I did not take a close look on the way back from bringing Starflower to meet the bus. It was 24 degrees, so it could have happened. But by afternoon, with the temperature approaching 60, the ice was most certainly gone. Sally enjoyed it.

I stayed home with Mr. Attitude today, since he had a fever and sore throat. It was one of those throats that makes you wince when you hear him cough or try to talk. He seemed better after I gave him a Ricola cough drop. (Can you hear the alpenhorn in the distance?) I made him homemade chicken soup for lunch, with fresh sage, garlic and thyme. I am becoming a firm believer in the healing powers of herbs and chicken soup. I'm sure no small part of it is the care and love that goes into making the soup. He is napping now. I'll probably keep him home tomorrow as well, since I have the day off anyway.

update- it looks as if Starflower and possibly Calvin may be joining us at home tomorrow. More chicken soup is on order!

owly

Yesterday may have been the first time ever that I bought a six pack of beer just for its label. I'm not normally a big fan of brown ale, but who could resist the saw whet owl?

I've been hearing barred and great horned owls lately, and even saw a great horned owl being mobbed by crows the other morning. Bald eagles must be migrating through; I have been seeing two or three of them a day! The sightings and sounds almost make up for the dismal dark wet snowy weather we've been having.

The kids have a mini break school yesterday and today for the annual Minnesota teachers' union convention. I wish I could be sleeping in this morning!

CORRECTION/UPDATE: OMG, I'm a pretty bad birder if I can't even properly identify an owl on a beer label! I checked my Sibley's tonight, just to be sure, and wouldn't you know it, that is a BOREAL owl, not a saw whet! Of course, I have seen neither of them in real life, but they are both pretty darn cute.

As long as I'm updating, I might as well say I saw a pair of trumpeter swans flying near the Kettle River this morning on my way to work. And stay tuned for sandhill cranes, lots of them...

Minnesota fall colors

I am so not ready for white. And if the behavior of the juvenile members of this household today is any indication, we're in for a LONG winter indoors. Sigh.

I did see some amazing sights today on my way home from some errands in town: a flock of 50+ ravens and one bald eagle (must have been some great road kill!), and a couple large flocks of sandhill cranes resting in a marsh and a pasture.

This snow has completely sucked out whatever motivation I had to do things today. I'm even thinking a nap sounds good right about now.

extreme gardening and running

It's the last night of August, and there are frost advisories out for the area. Considering this garden's history of being stricken by frost even when no advisories are present, I thought it would be prudent to cover up the tender stuff. I put so much work into growing tomatoes, I would like to see more than one ripe one yet this year. And my one watermelon is now softball size, can't give up now!

I had a strange but delightful run this morning. Usually in five miles or more, I will only see one or two vehicles at the most. And usually at least one of those is someone I know. But this morning when I turned east on the dead end road I know so well, I was passed by pickup truck after pickup truck, all late model and shiny, all towing trailers with dirt bikes or 4 wheelers. Great. Where on this little dead end road could they possibly be headed? I thought about turning around and taking a different route, but hey, this is MY road, my run, and I'm not going to let a bunch of city kids with their toys chase me off of it.

It turned out they were all headed to one property about two miles down the road. I don't know the details, but there were dozens of vehicles parked there, dirt bikes revving up, the smell of exhaust and cigarettes. I ran past the property, to the end of the road, when I realized something: I felt strong. Maybe it was my disgust at seeing all these gasoline powered playthings in my territory, or maybe it was the silent prayer I said at the beginning of my run, asking for strength. Whatever it was, I felt like I could go on and on. I ended up running down a little side dead end road a half mile and back, and going strong the rest of the way home for a total of seven miles.

I can't recall ever running seven miles, not even in my more youthful days. And I felt like I could have gone for at least ten.

Sand Creek becomes a raging river

Well, as much as a low gradient stream can rage. This is Sand Creek after a 2 day total of 6.25 inches of rain. Without a "before" picture it's hard to tell, but normally that island in the middle is not flooded.

This is the part of the stream I sampled by electrofishing about a week ago. Back then, the water in the foreground was about eight inches deep. Now it's almost to the tops of the three culverts under the road, which are about three feet high.

Here is the downstream end of the same road crossing. Last year when they replaced the culverts I thought three 3' round culverts was maybe overkill. The closest one in the photo had no water flowing through it on Saturday. A little overkill comes in handy in torrential rains.

Of course the pond is full and running out the overflow culvert. And of course, the kids left a canoe, kayak, and duck boat in the water; all are floating very low and since the kids are on vacation in Nebraska, I will be doing some bailing tomorrow.