February 1: Embracing the snow

My husband and I snowshoed up Beech Hill in Rockport this morning, in hopes of soaking up as much sunshine as we could before the next snowstorm rolls in tomorrow. The snow was beautiful--pure, fresh, dazzling, patterned with striking shadows and animal tracks.

 

Snowshoeing on Beech Hill--

our path intersects

that of a snowshoe hare.

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

February 17: Tracks in the snow

Snowshoed up Beech Hill in Rockport this afternoon with my friend Brian and his dog Jack. The trail up hadn't seen human traffic since this most recent storm. But we observed tracks of many other creatures that had left their mark on the fresh snow: coyote, snowshoe hare, squirrel, mouse, the interweaving paths of a flock of turkeys.

I step over tracks
of many turkeys, each bird
leaving its own trail.

January 1, 2013: First birds

At the start of each new year, I like to keep track of the first birds I see. When I got up, a crow flew through the backyard, sweeping past like a shadow against the snow. Nothing new there. Later, on a long snowshoe hike at the Ducktrap River Preserve, through sheltering hemlocks whose snowy boughs filtered sunlight onto snow patterned with snowshoe hare tracks, we only had one new species: Black-capped Chickadee. Back home, a swirl of Herring Gulls. And one goldfinch singing unseen in the neighbor's arbor vitae. And that was all. (It probably didn't help that my little window feeders were soaking in the sink, awaiting a cleaning and refill.)

If I'd really been trying, I'd have headed for the harbor or some other open water. Several birders posted observations of ducks on the Maine birding list-serv today. But I like to see what comes to me for the first day of the year, as some kind of portent. To see/hear those familiar birds might be auspicious for a year ahead full of good friends, for example. Or perhaps sustained pleasure of what I enjoyed in the year newly past.

Year's first birds appear
in stark black and white:
crows against snow, chickadees.

Ducktrap River from the Backcountry Ski Trail