WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

It’s the day after Snowmageddon and unfortunately Mother Nature is not quite done with us yet.

This was the biggest snow storm to hit SE Michigan since the Super Bowl Blizzard in 2015 where we got a foot of snow.

Yesterday’s grand total was 9.2 inches of snow.  What made it so bad was we had new snow nearly every day this past week, starting with last Sunday’s 5-inch snowstorm.   I sure am glad I got out while the gettin’ was good the past two weekends.

This morning, I peered out the front door before venturing outside.  I saw humungous hills and valleys of snow and it looked like skiers might come schussing down the street any moment.  I didn’t see any neighbors up and digging out yet, so I decided to take the camera and capture some images of that pristine show for today’s blog.

I suited up to head outside.  The snow had drifted against the screen door; good thing I had a big breakfast so I could give that door a little oomph to get it open.  The sweep had also frozen to the stoop, but luckily it didn’t tear it.

Wow!  It’s a good thing it was a gloomy-looking sky because all that snow would have been blinding.  The sidewalk leading to the backyard had not been shoveled since I finished up yesterday at 9:00 a.m.  As you see in the above picture, snow drifts settled against the fence or blew into mounds along the garden.  Those mounds of snow are not bushes, but mini-mountains made by Mother Nature.

I was wearing knee-high boots and the snow came up over them in some places.  The backyard looked beautiful.  I wonder who visited on the back patio in the wee hours of the morn?

Maybe it was the squirrel who clambered down from that nest way up high in the tree.

I was looking for the blue jay to take a picture of him, but he was MIA.  Then, all of a sudden snow flurries erupted.  I wanted to take more pictures, but didn’t want the camera to get wet, so I hustled to the front yard to take them before a full-fledged blizzard ensued.  There were two City snowplow drivers having a brief rendezvous out front.

Suddenly, one drove off and the other guy came tearing down the street a few minutes later, blading away all those inches of snow and simultaneously depositing ice-filled crud onto the apron of each homeowner’s driveway.   Nice!

That heavy mess gave me an extra hour of work for both driveways.  Our City declared a snow emergency from 9:00 a.m. Friday through 9:00 a.m. Monday, so no one can park on the City streets.  Some people try and do it anyway and usually get a ticket.

Camera in hand, I paused and looked for some interesting shots to best illustrate this massive snowfall.  I meandered over to my neighbor’s house, and, in doing so, put the first footprints of the day on the snowy sidewalk between our two houses.  “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” may be a beautiful Christmas song, but I’d rather be walking on the perimeter path at Council Point Park on a Winter’s day, than on this loooooong length of City sidewalk which I have shoveled nearly every day this week, and countless times already this season.

In the driveway, their car was groaning under the weight of the snow.

The BBQ grill was barely recognizable – after all, we’d had about 10 inches of snow this past week before Snowmageddon.   The backyard looks frozen in time .. just like it usually does all Summer, except blanketed in snow and ice.

Speaking of frozen, check out these lethal-looking icicles which I elaborated on in yesterday’s post.  They look like translucent daggers … or stalactites.  I quickly took the photos, then steered clear of them in case one broke and fell down on me.  It wasn’t until I looked at all my photos tonight, that I noticed some icicles on my own house, despite me crowing about having none yesterday.

This backyard was always a haven for birds, but the neighborhood birds may not feel too welcome right now.

These bird houses, as well as the various garden knickknacks sitting on the wooden rack were similarly dripping with icicles.

I’m sure the cardinals are drawn to this feeder with their likeness on it, but unfortunately it is nearly empty right now.  I like how the feeder nestles right into the bare tree with its branches laden with snow.  I heard the distinctive tweet of a cardinal, probably in my own barberry bush where they usually build their nests – that beautiful red bird would love to feast on some safflower seeds – I just know it.

And out front, that birdbath was topped off with more than a foot of snow, so no baths or drinks today for our fine-feathered friends.

Tea for two?  That table and chairs sure aren’t occupied these days.

I finally decided to quit fiddling with the photos and get crackin’ on the snow shovelin’ – ugh.  The snow is piled as high as my waist in some spots and throwing the snow to the side is getting more difficult.  I have to walk a fair piece just to dump it off the shovel.

We’re getting freezing rain right now, followed by 2-4 more inches of snow.

Somebody up there please make it stop!

The torch relay is complete and the cauldron has been lit by Olympic gold medalist Yuna Kim, who even skated a little before the official lighting.

So let the Winter Games begin.

I used to follow figure skating competition for years and watched every televised skating event for the individual men’s and women’s competitions.  Back in the 80s and 90s, I followed not only the “Battle of the Brians” but the careers of all the young men and women skaters, until slowly each of those skaters eventually went pro or retired.  Though I’m not familiar with anyone competing in the five upcoming Olympic skating events, I will probably try and catch a few performances over the next two weeks.

Tonight I saw snippets of the Opening Day ceremony and heard an interesting factoid.  Apparently, some of the snow made for these Olympics comes from snow-making machines manufactured right here in Michigan.

Truthfully, Michigan could send a lot of the real deal to Pyeongchang without batting an eyelash – there’s a whole lotta snowin’ goin’ on here right now!

First, there was three inches of fresh snow overnight, and since then, the snow has been coming at a fast and furious pace, sometimes at about one inch of snow per hour.  Reports on total depth in my city vary from 8 to 10 inches so far.  Enough already!  The snow had icy pellets and was not the soft and powdery kind like earlier in the week.  It stung my face with tiny, needle-like pings.  I was soaking wet when I came back in the house this morning, dripping snow from the pom-pom on my chullo hat to my lug-soled boots.  My jacket hood blocks my peripheral vision, so I usually keep it pushed back off my head, but,  I’m sure I flicked out at least a shovelful of snow into the laundry tub from inside my jacket hood.

But, enough of me and my travails … at least I didn’t have to go out again later as my neighbor took the snow blower to both our properties around 3:30 p.m.  I was ecstatic, especially as I wasn’t counting on him doing so, since he is recovering from a recent bout of pneumonia.

While outside this morning, between huffing and puffing and hefting and hoisting, I did take a few minutes to gaze at, and appreciate, the snowy vista before tackling all that white stuff.

During the Winter, my neighbor’s yard usually holds more intrigue than mine, like this forlorn-looking fire pit, its embers snuffed out months ago, and now buried beneath more than a foot of accumulated snow.  Firewood is piled up near the garage waiting to take the chill out of a late Spring evening – remind me again what Spring is please.

There are lethal-looking icicles lined up like soldiers, that dare you to get near them, because, should they snap in half, they’d surely stab you and you’d be a goner.  Mercifully, last year’s insulation job now keeps my house icicle free, thus eliminating the need to go along and knock them down one-by-one with a broom handle.

But, ice is everywhere else and I slid more than once after I removed the snow off the sidewalk.  A fellow blogger took a tumble last week after sliding on a snow-covered patch of ice.  She fell hard onto her arm and broke it in three places, necessitating surgery and pins in her left arm.  These days I’m glad to step into the house and onto the landing, and leave that ice and snow behind, because just thinking about poor TJ’s painful ordeal makes me shudder.

Those Winter games may be 6,583 miles away from my house, but I’ve had a Winter game going on in my own yard.

Since I can’t get my kicks in the sticks until the weather gets a whole lot better, I’ve gotten a little nature fix, courtesy of  a beautiful blue jay.  From his high perch in the tall oak tree, this bird, with its distinct crest and beautiful plumage, has been watching me intently while I shovel, the gears in its brain no doubt thinking “gee, I’m glad I don’t have to do that.”  I’ve glanced over more than a few times to see a pair of steely eyes fixed on my every move and the occasional screeching serves to further announce his presence.

So, yesterday I had a little extra time since there was no snow to shovel, save for the mess the snow plow made at the end of the two driveway.  Once again, the blue jay was in residence in his tree, so I reached into my pocket to pull out some peanuts left over from Saturday’s foray to the Park.  I took three peanuts out and placed them on the wall ledge near the garage.  Then I stepped back and watched from around the corner.  That blue jay flew down immediately and swooped by to grab one peanut with his sharp beak.  He’s much too big of a bird to land on the ledge, necessitating a “fly-by” so he repeated that move two more times, gliding by gracefully, collecting his prize and off he went again.  Next, I placed three more peanuts, standing up straight up in the snow.  He was not so eager to dive bomb onto that snow-covered boxwood bush, so he looked at me and I quipped “well, now you’ll have to get your feet wet for these Bud.”  After a moment’s hesitation, there he was, a flash of blue in the gray sky, once again making three trips, perhaps taking them home for the family.  I lingered in the cold to watch him, then demonstrated I had no more peanuts by turning the bag inside out.  He looked dubious, but then flew away.

Today, the snow was flying and I took a breather in the backyard after I saw the blue jay in the same spot.  I swear this savvy bird looked right at my coat pocket as if to insinuate I was holding out on him.  Of course I was packing peanuts in my pocket, so I lined up three on the ledge and another three in the snow just like before, then told him “a peanut for your thoughts my fine feathered friend but I gotta fly now.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as one by one they disappeared, then so did he, just as I was kicking the snow off the shovel and my boots to go into the house.

I wish I’d taken pictures of our little interaction, but it was snowing so heavily I didn’t want to risk taking the camera outside.  But, I am sure this bird is one of many that used to frequent my neighbor Marge’s back deck where she always plied them with treats every morning so she could watch the feeding frenzy from her kitchen window or door wall and take photos of them.

I wonder if this is the same jay that I interacted with today?

I know he’ll be waiting on me tomorrow when I go outside, his newly discovered benefactor and dispenser of peanuts.  Shh – don’t tell the squirrels I’m sharing their goodies!

[Image of fire and ice by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay]

The weatherman told us that Winter is flexing its muscles.  That’s an interesting way to describe the onslaught of snow we’ve received this first week of February.

Old Man Winter is not the only one flexing its muscles.  I fear I’m already looking like Popeye the Sailor Man, that cartoon character from my youth who was always touting his big biceps.  As to me, it’s been three mornings in a row shoveling show, plus tomorrow and Friday, it appears shoveling snow will be my morning agenda as well.

I guess if you have to endure tonight’s 2-3 inch snowfall, you might as well get a giggle over it, as you see in this chart from Click On Detroit’s meteorologist Paul Gross:

For the past three years, I’ve had this “deal” going with my next-door neighbor … I shovel the snow for both our houses all Winter long, and he cuts the lawn for both properties in the growing season.  I’m no math whiz, but I know that you cut the lawn more times than you shovel the snow … um, most years anyway.   The last two Winters have been mild with not too much snow, but this year we’ve been slammed.  My property (and especially the driveway) is half the size of his.  So, you now know why I said grrr to the Groundhog’s prognostication – it wasn’t just about putting a halt to my walking regimen.

The hardest working muscle in your body is the heart.  Good thing my ticker is in good shape, so I can continue to shovel my way through February, a/k/a National Heart Month.

Heart disease runs in my family though, and my grandmother and eight of her nine siblings, succumbed to heart disease.  My mom had a heart arrhythmia.  I hope that giving up red meat three years ago and walking 1,050 miles in 2017 thus makes me heart smart and healthy for a long time.

As to this perpetual snow, I was perplexed that our City’s schools were all closed yesterday.  We ended up getting 5 inches of snow on Sunday, so most of the schools in Michigan closed Monday.  I don’t think we ever got a snow day at junior high or high school – ever!  It was a 2.2 mile round trip daily trudge from my house to those two schools, which were side by side.  I really don’t want to be one of those people that says “when I was your age …” BUT, we didn’t get any breaks when it snowed back in the day.  While my parents never gave me the lecture about walking five miles uphill to a one-room schoolhouse, they insisted that walking to school in the snow would build character, keep me from getting chubby and put roses in my cheeks.  I accepted their logic and now, all these years later, I realize they were spot-on.

You may recall I recently wrote about Jill Wellington, the Michigan photographer whose photos I often use in my blog posts.  Jill has been learning macro photography on her iPhone and posting pictures of water droplets and snowflakes on Facebook.  Above is one of a series of photos of snowflakes that landed on Jill’s outdoor grill.

I commented on how beautiful, unique and delicate those snowflakes were, and how they all stick together to make a snow event like we have today.  Jill lives 120 miles north of me, so she likely will see double the snow that we are having.  While she embraces these snowy days, I am always content to enjoy Winter through Jill’s eyes and the lens of her camera or iPhone … or, so I thought until this morning.

While I was outside shoveling, I got to thinking about those dainty snowflakes and decided that it is tenacity that keeps those fragile flakes from simply melting into thin air, and instead banding together to create measurable snow.   They are kind of like those little acorns that held their own and grew up to be big oak trees.  So, I decided I was going to write a post about those tenacious snowflakes, and the snow, and get some photos while I was at it.

What a difference a day makes.  Yesterday at exactly the same time I was watching the eagles soaring and today it was the snow that was flying.  Saturday’s 4-degree wind chill was brutal and now just a memory, because today, at 9:00 a.m. it was about 40 degrees as you see in the below picture.

The freshly fallen snow was beautiful and there was no one outside but me.  Down the street was a snowy vista on this silent Sunday morn, as not a single car went by, and any noises from the cross street or main drag seemed muffled by the snow.  You could just feel the tranquility in the air.  I disturbed that beautiful snow and the peaceful morn once I started shoveling.  The rhythmic sound of the shovel blade hitting the cement was the only discernible noise and it did interrupt the tranquility.  The flurries were coming fast and furiously and soon the driveway was covered once again by the time I finished shoveling.

I decided today, instead of grumbling about the snow, I’d embrace it, like Jill does, so I went inside to fetch my camera.  I had to change into another coat and hat as the snow on my clothes was dripping everywhere.

These photos were taken after the initial snowfall.  Thankfully we did not get walloped with the 3-6 inches originally predicted, but snow showers are coming tonight, and a couple more inches of snow are slated for Monday and Tuesday overnight as well.

I was admiring the view in my neighbor’s yard and snapped this picture.

Then something stirred slightly, so I zoomed in to see these four sparrows plopped on top of my neighbor’s weeping mulberry tree.  I was fairly close to them and they didn’t budge.  Perhaps they were looking for grub, or lost one of their brethren in the snowy landscape.

The backyard was awash in white.  The dark bag on my log cabin bird feeder, which helps keep the wood from weathering over the Winter, certainly looked out of place in the snowy yard.  The clematis is dormant, and not climbing up the trellis, clinging with its creeping tendrils until the vine curls around the front porch of the log cabin.  Years ago a friend built the log cabin feeder and mounted it on a pole made of PVC pipe.  He guaranteed me the squirrels could not scramble up the pole because it was slippery, and he even staked it in the middle of the yard.  But, the determined squirrels would take a flying leap from the chain-link fence and land on the roof of the feeder, open up the hinged door to access the food, then gorge themselves silly on birdseed.  We tried mixing a special red pepper in the birdseed to deter the squirrels, but they continued to attack the feeder with a vengeance, so I vacuumed it out and it is just ornamental now.

Gazing around the backyard at the sleeping roses and clematises I have there, I know those flowers are tenacious and will be back come Spring … they are like Timex watches that take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.

My neighbor’s trumpet vine spills over the fence all Summer, with vibrant orangy-red blooms dripping everywhere and today its woody stems are blanketed in snow.

An empty chair awaits a colorful planter come May.  It sits next to a snow-laden magnolia bush where, once Spring arrives, the Mama robin will build her nest and raise her young, and I will peek in between the leaves to check them out from time to time.

Jill’s dainty snowflakes and my trip outside reminded me of the saying:

“A snowflake is one of God’s most fragile creations, but look what they can do when they stick together!” ~ Author Unknown

[Image of snowflakes by Jill Wellington]