World under ice

[written yesterday]
That taste of spring has left me feeling anxious and confined. Especially on days like today when the trees are all swaying in the wind, sometimes gently, other times violently thrashing about. I readily admit to being overly cautious, but then windthrow is a major disturbance affecting our forests. Our local forest has many standing dead trees, beech trees rotting inside from beech bark disease, and wet areas where shallow-rooted trees occasionally fall over, root system and all. There's been several times we've found our driveway blocked by tree trunks of various sizes.

So I just feel better not being under several tons of wood doing the wave. Which is too bad, since otherwise a walk would be great. The sky is cloudy but the sun regularly shines through the haze. The temperature, while brisk, is pleasant enough as long as you work up some body heat.

This brings up the another issue - other than hauling firewood, there's not much work I can do outside yet. There's no use skiing on the melted clumps of snow remaining, which would be a great way to appreciate the last few weeks of winter. I'm ready for spring garden work, but the world outside seems stuck in between seasons. With the loss of snow cover, the ground has lost its insulating layer. It and all the small bodies of water around us are caught up in a freeze/thaw cycle that seesaws with the sunlight and temperature.



The snow loss has also exposed many bits of greenery hugging the ground, from moss and ferns to rosette leaves of perennial and biennial plants. Ready for action, they nevertheless can find themselves held in suspended animation by the ice.



It feels like we're all stuck waiting for next month, when at some point the ground will thaw and we can all start taking full advantage of the lengthening days. I will finally get to dig compost into my garden beds and actually plant seeds into the still cold ground - peas, spinach and radishes which can take the cold and frosts. I will also be on the lookout for the first flower of spring. Skunk cabbage flowers use their own metabolism to create a warm microclimate for themselves and their pollinators.


[the picture above is of a skunk cabbage leaf bud]

For such a short month, February can last so long.