Warner Corner - February 2009
Bring on the Cold... and Snow!
Jen Ester, Interpretive Naturalist Intern II
February is the month when we start to observe the first inklings of spring. Here at Warner Nature Center the chickadees are already singing their "fee-bee" calls, the first syllable a full note higher than the second. It is one of the earliest signs of spring. We are hearing barred owls hooting their mating calls and are keeping an eye on the red oak trees that, in January or February, drop the leaves that are held since the last growing season in preparation for new buds. Some of us even look to the infamous groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, to emerge from his home and forecast the remaining length of winter with his shadow while his fellow groundhogs continue to hibernate. It's hard to think spring with the continuing sub-zero temperatures, yet the early signs of spring, though subtle, are there.
Having survived through a good three months of winter, these early signs of spring are exciting. Yet, I find the continuing cold a blessing since it means another week during which I can enjoy the many outdoor adventures that make use of the excellent snow we've enjoyed this season. It may be that, born in the midst of a snowstorm, I am predetermined to love snow, but each February I feel a twinge of sadness at these early spring signs and the inevitable loss of snow that is to follow. With this realization I become determined to spend the month getting as much out of the snow as I can.
Snow is like one giant piece of paper that records the activities of the many woodland creatures we must sneak around to find in the summer. With a pair of snowshoes strapped to the feet, we are able to follow a deer trail deep into the woods where we might stumble upon a neatly pressed deer bed complete with the imprint of tucked-under legs and a stray hollow hair or two. Crossing that path we might find tunnels of small mammals darting from one tunnel to the next over a packed-down trail. On top of the snow, that same critter leaves a symmetrical path of small feet like dots with the single line of a tail drag like a mirror in between. On a staff hike earlier this winter, we were able to follow the trail of two coyotes and a lone turkey for nearly half a mile on one of our packed down, established trails. I couldn't resist singing Adam Sandler's Thanksgiving Song lyrics, "turkey-lurkey doo, turkey-lurkey dap, I eat that turkey, then I take a nap" and wondered if the coyotes were thinking the same thing.
Skiing is a way to get out in the sun, to focus on snow like never before. I have had the wonderful opportunity to help coach my high school Nordic ski team in Stillwater. I have rediscovered the wonderful skier attitude that no matter the temperature and weather condition there is an outing to be had. We know that very cold snow will be slow, but a wonderful opportunity to classic ski without worrying about sticky, goopy kick wax. We also know that cold can help a groomed trail set up perfectly into a hard, fast pack. It is a wonderful feeling to let it all out with long, powerful strokes which are best done on a trail just like that.
All of this snow has also given us the chance to build Quinzhees (snow caves) for fun or shelter while winter camping. All it takes is one giant pile of snow, a day or two to set up and a great desire to dig. One of our naturalists and some volunteers got so excited about this activity that they built two Quinzhees connected by a tunnel. It is the Swiss Family Robinson tree house of Quinzhees and I can't wait to show it to visiting groups.
Beyond winter activities, snow is simply a beautiful thing. A fresh snowfall can bring hours of enjoyment. Most of us have heard that there are no two snowflakes alike, but have you ever studied the snowflakes that fall on your mitten? Make sure you hold your breath while looking closely or the snowflakes will melt. The creation of a perfect snowflake is a wonder of engineering. A perfect snowflake must grow slowly in uniform cold. If conditions are at all different from one side of the snowflake to the other, it will not be symmetrical. Even more amazing to me is the variety in which snowflakes form. There are hexagonal plates, triangular plates, columns, star shapes, any combination of snowflake like those we cut out in paper that one could possibly imagine, and everything in between. If you ever get a chance, find W.A. Bentley and W.J. Humphreys' book Snow Crystals. Bentley spent years accumulating unbelievable pictures of perfect snowflakes in every design—2,453 unique crystals.
Listen and look for the signs this February and take heart, spring is around the corner. But while you're waiting, bundle up and enjoy another month or so of a magical substance. I recently heard Garrison Keillor remark about winter in Duluth a thought that also rings true for us in the Twin Cities area, "it is 9 months of winter and 3 months of bad sledding." We may have long winters here in Minnesota, but we also know how to make use of what we are given. Enjoy!
