In Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, spring teases you. One day it’s here and the next, it’s gone.
Actually, it is “here,” officially. The calendar says so, even if my eyes don’t. The vernal equinox, spring’s astronomical arrival, occurred a week ago. At my other home in Zone 7 (Virginia), daffodils are blooming. But here in Zone 4/5, snow still covers the ground and more is falling. Since my personal winter is only two months old, that’s ok with me. It gives me time to explore the shorelines as the ice breaks up, and re-freezes, and breaks again, tracking the cycles of a northern spring.
The not-yet-spring on the 46th parallel, in photos and captions below.
When you live on the water, you notice signs of spring that other people miss — like this. The seiche is active on Huron Bay, which means the ice moves, too. And in spring, it breaks.
I still ski on the bay, but listen for water and watch for cracks. In spite of my caution, I did “fall through” once, but only a few inches. I don’t go out far and make sure that I can retreat quickly.
See why it’s worth going out on the ice (safely) rather than just looking at it?
Besides shadows, I see a lot of tracks. Deer tracks were mixed with others.
Coyote? Wolf? Bobcat? (We have all three up here.) I’m a beginner at track-identification. I know coyote tracks are oval — like this — and can show claw marks, because they can’t retract their claws. Wolf tracks are usually more elongated. My guess is coyote, a well-know predator here that seeks out weak or ill deer. Nature is…well, natural, if not always pretty.
On a different shoreline about 50 miles away, I found bigger cracks in the ice….
…at McClain State Park on the west side of the Keweenaw Peninsula, on the shore of Lake Superior.
The wind left sculptural designs on the snow-covered ice along the shoreline.
Along Gitche Gumee (pronounced gitch-ee goo-mee, which is what the natives called Lake Superior), the waves leave dramatic evidence of their previous activity on the shoreline.
Just a few hundred feet away, the landscape looks so different due to sand mixed with the ice. It reminded me of McMurdo Station on the coast of Antarctica, where I worked in the 90s. The coastline of Antarctica is actually quite moderate in summer–much like winter here. (The South Pole, in the interior, is another thing–again, like up here. I’ll post about my time in Antarctica soon.)
When you walk the shoreline, you really notice the impact of wind (and sun) at different places. Inside the break-wall, the west wind either blew the snow away, or the sun was able to melt it more easily. Or both. How strange to walk on bare dirt after climbing on ice just ten minutes earlier.
I swam here often as a kid. We sometimes walked out to the end, jumped in the water, and climbed onto the lighthouse. (I think it’s off-limits now.) The waves often did wash over this break-wall but I don’t recall anyone getting washed overboard. We knew better than to try it during storms.
I wore my snowshoes because they give good traction, not because the snow was deep. We use boot tracks up here also — I have three pair — but snowshoes are easier in changing conditions. (It looks like I could fall into the water, but the ice is at least a foot deep here. I always poke and prod before heading close to the edge. People do fall through sometimes, and drown. So, safety first.)
As winter winds down, here’s the snowfall totals for the year so far. (These numbers will likely increase before spring truly arrives.) I’m between Calumet and Marquette, in the purple.
Indoors, I’m working on refurbishing the old woodstove. The new door gasket works great. And the glass window looks a lot better after I followed someone’s tip…dip a damp paper towel in the wood ash and scrub. Saves the expense and stink of a commercial cleaner.
Looks a lot better with a clean window! Next, polishing the stove. That’ll be a messy job…stay tuned.
And, preparing for spring…any guesses on what this is, for spreading around my evergreens? I’ve been drying and saving it for weeks. Answer in next post, when I actually use it. (FYI: Wood ash is good for hardwoods but not evergreens. I’ve been saving it, too.)
Back outside, the fawn I’ve nick-named “Kitty Kitty” (long story) gets fed a few times a day. I’m on my third large bag of alfalfa, and will keep it up until spring exposes enough natural food. The feed store says the farms are running out of alfalfa, so let’s hope the melt comes soon enough for this young’un. A month ago, I was trudging through deep snow here. You can see how much has melted already.
“Kitty” also gets a corn treat once a day. She runs there as soon as I come outside. She knows!
My three “pets” bed down near the house. This was a few hours ago. As you can see, winter is back.
The previous melt has exposed the dwarf evergreens on my lawn, which were entirely covered a few weeks ago. (They’re a bit misshapen by ice and snow but I think they will rebound.) Snow flurries continue today, even amidst occasional sunbeams.
And back indoors, my real kitty is entertained when my TV goes into “waiting-for-signal” mode, which happens a lot. I get frustrated, but she’s delighted by the moving circle. As you can tell, I don’t pay extra for ad-free apps. This ad aims to make me feel old, and then make me buy something to feel younger. Time to get out there on my snowshoes and prove to myself that I’m “not there yet!”
For Many Moons 