Winter's Shore

We visited Seapoint and Crescent Beaches--and the point of land that separates the two--in Kittery, Maine a few hours past high tide this afternoon. The air temperature was 25 F; it felt balmy compared to the overnight sub-zero temps, although we still wore long underwear. We had this stretch of coastline mostly to ourselves. (We marvel that so few people visit beaches in winter--though that is why we like it so.).

A flock of wintering purple sandpipers (they nest in the high-arctic and winter on Maine rocky coasts) roosted on ice-covered rocks as waves crashed around them, sanderlings and ruddy turnstones probed the equally chilly tideline. Such hardy shorebirds to endure a northern winter's shore.

You have to look close to see the shorebirds in the following photos:

purple sandpipers, sanderlings, ruddy turnstone

Minus Eight Degrees

6 AM: At minus eight degrees Fahrenheit the cold snow crunches and squeaks underfoot. We stop only long enough for Kodi to lick road salt off his foot pads. We can't hear each other as we walk, the crunching snow is loud and we are wearing tight-fitting balaclavas that cover our head, ears, and neck. The winds are calm, which saves our exposed faces from getting wind-chilled. By the time we're back home from the 2-mile walk we've warmed up, even sweating. Without Kodi and Henna we never would have ventured out in sub-zero darkness, and end up feeling refreshed from the bracing walk.

Our dearest dogs egged us on during these past few days of cold and snow--first, second, third, sometimes a fourth walk. As long as we dressed properly, we didn't really notice the cold. The snow is beautiful: covering the forest floor, in large drifts along field edges, coating the northerly side of tree trunks like white paint stripes on roads, in winter shadows and in the crotch of a tree.

Turkeys and Turkey Vulture on New Year's Day

New Years Day 2014 -- 5 AM, Clear, 10 F

Around 7:30 am six female turkeys marched into our neighbor's yard from the back woods. They came from the southeast; I think they roost in the big white pines along the wetland edge. Our neighbors started putting out feed in December, so turkeys are now a daily feature in our yard too; they scratch around the base of our bird feeders. The females left after about 30 minutes, in single file they retraced their route back through the woods.

About an hour later six males with long beards marched single file to our neighbor's backyard following the same path as the females. Presumably the female turkeys clucked a bit of information to the males back in the woods somewhere. Or maybe the males just rousted themselves out of their tree roosts later than the females.

Here are two of the males under our feeders; note the long "beards" that hang down from their breast.

By late morning the temperature was in the high teens, the sky was mostly blue, and despite a light but brisk wind it was a good time for a walk on our now favorite nearby trails at the Piscassic River Wildlife Management Area. Kodi and Henna are always game for this outing, stopping now and then to joust with each other.

When we returned to the car a turkey vulture soared overhead. There was a time that vultures were rare in New Hampshire, and never seen in winter. Now they are year-rounders.

Not sure if the vulture sensed the pending storm, but it didn't seem to be in a hurry or rattled by the cold wind. We on the other hand, re-stacked a row of firewood, made kindling, and filled the wood box, in advance of a winter storm that may or may not bring a lot of snow, but surely will bring blowing snow, below zero temps, and even colder wind chill.  

Happy New Year All---stay warm and stay safe. 

Exploring Local Lands Via Snowmobile Trails

Within a few miles of our house there are more than 3,000 acres of conserved land and most of it has trails that are open to the public for year-round outdoor recreation. It is not all contiguous, but a lot of it is and much of it feels remote and wild even though we are in a heavily developed region of New Hampshire. The Southeast Land Trust of NH, the NH Fish and Game Department, The Nature Conservancy, Natural Resources Conservation Service, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, local towns, and other partners have worked with private landowners to conserve these lands in perpetuity.

Winter offers one of the best times to explore this land, in part because much of it is wet or soggy and hard to traverse (or is too buggy) when the ground is not frozen. With all the snow so far this year (total to date is two feet), the woodland trails have enticed snowmobilers early and often. In New Hampshire, local snowmobile clubs are well-organized and respectful of public and private lands. They groom trails, maintain trail signs (such as "stay on trail or stay home"), build bridges across wet areas, and their registration fees pay to create, maintain, and patrol the trails.

We've discovered a network of such trails on the NH Fish and Game Department's Piscassic River Wildlife Management Area. Snowmobilers have created well-packed trails that are easy for us and the dogs to walk and run on and to explore remote areas where hare and fisher and deer are abundant (as evidenced by their tracks).

We are out on the trails in the morning (this is the second walk of the day, after the pre-dawn walk). I find that most snowmobilers don't emerge until after lunch. And although I like the trails that they create, I'm not too fond of their sound and smell. On two one-hour walk/runs this weekend on the Piscassic River WMA snowmobile trails, we encountered only one person on a snowmobile and he worked for the State of NH, as a patrol, to ensure no excess speeds.

The only way that I can enjoy winter (and not long for white sand beaches and warm turquoise-colored water) is to get outside for a snowshoe or walk/run with the dogs on winding trails through snowy woods. And I thank the snowmobilers for making our trek easier.

To Sanborn and Back

From our house to Sanborn Drive is one mile. Lately we've been taking the dogs that far on our pre-dawn walk. Usually we only go as far as the Homestead Woodworking School or the Mitchell fields on Bald Hill Road--about 1/2 mile one-way. We've extended the walk, in part because we need more exercise as do Kodi and Henna, and because the fields where we sometimes roam are deep with snow, so we stay on the road and walk farther.

We try to leave the house early, by 5:30 am, before the commuter traffic starts to build on Bald Hill Road, not that it ever gets too busy. But we like the road to ourselves, to gaze at the stars and planets, or note the animal tracks that crossed the road during the night, or watch the eastern horizon change colors just before sunrise.

Sometimes we chat as we walk, other times we each get lost in our own thoughts. The early morning darkness feels different to me than the black of night. Pre-dawn is usually quiet (except for the somewhat annoying dogs that bark from their yards, constrained by invisible fences) and peaceful, with a new day emerging just over the horizon. It marks the beginning of a day, when I am feeling fresh and energetic and full of ideas. By nightfall, like the flocks of turkeys that visit our yard, I am ready to fly up into my roost for the night.

Kodi especially is attached to this stretch of road that we walk from home. Whenever we are away for more than a day, the first thing he wants to do is go for a walk down Bald Hill Road. He checks for new smells, notes any new visual cues, marks each mailbox and snowbank, and returns home satisfied that he has successfully perambulated his territory.

A mid-morning view from Bald Hill Road, on the way to Sanborn Drive

Winter's Beauty

As recently as this morning I was still debating in my mind why live here in the wintry temperate zone versus the much warmer tropics. We drove home from Vermont yesterday in the midst of a modest snowstorm; a few accidents (none that involved us) and slippery roads slowed our progress. This morning we had another four inches of fresh powder to clear from the driveway. It took a long time for the wood stove to warm up the house this morning. Before taking the dogs for a walk, we spent time putting on layers of winter clothing, boots, hat, gloves.

Whereas, on Havelock Island (my most recent favorite place), we rolled out of bed at sunrise and strolled down to the beach in flip flops.

To shake myself out of the snow versus sand debate, I took Kodi and Henna for a walk in the fresh snow. Under blue sky, warm sun, but crisp air, I was reminded of winter's beauty, and the draw of New England's seasonal changes.

The dogs and I both took note of the mammal tracks crisscrossing our path: deer, snowshoe hare, fox, coyote, fisher. The dogs could smell and I could see the animal movements--whether they were in a hurry or moving slowly, who was following who, and where they most like to hang out. The snowshoe hares never ventured far from low hanging pine and hemlock boughs.

Clouds of powdery snow drifted off overhead limbs as a gentle breeze nudged the trees. Ice crystals glittered underfoot as the bright sun reflected off tiny snowflakes.

Back at the house I cheerfully filled the wood box, while Kodi and Henna frolicked in the snow. The winter wonderland (in reality and in my mind) has arrived. Although, I am still reluctant to change my blog header photo.....

Going Back in Time

Going back in time is always the hardest for me. A week ago Saturday we left my in-laws flat in Bangalore, India at 5am. After two long British Airways flights we landed in Boston around 7:30 pm the same day. It took 1 1/2 hours to get our baggage because the luggage carousels broke twice. The C&J Trailways bus was late and then took two hours to reach Portsmouth because of a snowstorm. We finally reached home at midnight Saturday night--the same calendar day that we left India (because the East Coast is 10.5 hours behind Bangalore), but in real time it was nearly thirty hours later. I know, it takes awhile to grasp, and certainly awhile for my body to re-adjust.

Then, within three days of arriving home, two snowstorms dumped 1.5 feet of powdery snow and the temperature was well below freezing for several days. The snow is beautiful (or was as it is now rainy), but I am still dreaming of white sand beaches, turquoise waters, and hermit crabs on Havelock Island in the Andamans.

Today is the Winter Solstice--our shortest day and longest night. Even though this is just the start of winter, the days will start getting longer. And that is something that my body will embrace.