… Baby it’s cold outside!

It seems rather counter-productive to spend fifteen minutes doing some serious layering up for a five-minute foray outside, only to reverse that procedure once again in relatively short order. Of course, sometimes the unbundling process goes much more quickly if that blasted heat is going when you return indoors, or you drank too much coffee before heading outside. For me, it is not only getting ready to go out in these frosty temps, but the maneuvering around in bulky clothes and boots on the cellar way landing, a three-by-four foot area which space is precariously close to the stairs going to the basement. I keep my boots in a tote box on the landing so that when I come inside I can do some fancy footwork and step directly into the box and remove my boots while doing a pretty good balancing act. This way I avoid getting snow anywhere near the door where I will stack the rolled-up rag rugs to block the draft from outside. But that procedure is lengthy and adds another five or so minutes to the routine. Once outside I did my usual Winter Deep Freeze chores and discovered one of the drain spouts was blocked with solid ice. We replaced all the drain spouts last Summer after the decades-old gutters were starting to show their age and multiple ice dams in the past few years had caused their seams to open. The large trees in the house behind me have not been maintained in years and the many gusty days cause small branches to go airborne and land in the gutters, even after the last Fall cleaning. To thwart the ice dams which occurred the past few years, metal mesh was inserted at the top of all the drain spouts – well evidently that didn’t work. Just as I heaved a huge sigh, then grumbled aloud about whether to take further action or hope for a thaw (fat chance of that happening over the next week or so), a tiny bird sitting way up in the plum tree started warbling, albeit very faint and rather pitiful notes, but a song nonetheless. Perhaps he was in tune with my aggravation and thus seized that moment to help me forget my troubles just as the Winter doldrums threatened to rear their ugly head. I heard that sweet sound and my heart just melted. I wanted to dash into the house and get something to share with him, but surely he would have moved on by the time I went through the rigmarole in the cellar way and returned outside. There was certainly no sun to speak of, so perhaps he was calling for his mate or rounding up his family. I prefer to think he wanted to offer up some cheer on a rather bleak, bitter cold morn. I thought of my little munchkin inside, swaddled under his many blankets, lucky to be warm, safe, spoiled and very loved. I wished I could give this little guy some treats and comfort as well. Once again my thoughts turned to the critters at Council Point Park and I wondered if they stray from the Park regularly to a reliable food source which will sustain them through this cold snap. I recalled my conversation with Todd, the runner who had been going to the Park over twenty years, when he told me about how picturesque the Park would be once Winter arrived. I immediately planned to steal down there on weekends or free workday mornings, bundled up in my warm outerwear and camera in tow, to capture on film a wily red fox meandering through the trees and reeds on the banks of the Ecorse Creek or perhaps the massive gathering of ducks, which, according to Todd, will converge beneath the sewer drain where they live, while seeking shelter from the elements. Those mallards will stay put until some duck whisperer, like me, lures them out with soft words and tidbits of stale bread, and then they come out en masse. Sadly, that trip is destined to be tabled for a very long time. On a happier note, did you notice how the sun is getting up earlier these days? So, yes, we are inching toward Spring ever so slowly, but we are getting there. Keep your fingers crossed the Groundhog does not see his shadow a week from Sunday, guaranteeing us an early Spring, but I wouldn’t bet the farm on it folks.