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Monday Melt (*sob*)
On Monday, we walked up the creek to check out a beaver dam about a mile and a half from the house.
... YES, IT STILL LOOKS LIKE THIS.
This is the beaver lake -- it's still completely frozen over, as you can see. That's the beaver house in the upper left quadrant of the picture, a little hump with tracks leading to and from it. I could see fresh beaver chew-marks on some of the trees, so they'd been out and about recently. Orion decided to try walking on the lake, but about three more steps after I took this picture, the 20 feet or so of snow in front of him abruptly settled 6 inches ... and we decided discretion was the better part of valor.
Here's a kinda neat picture of the sun setting over the creek ice as we were walking home (this is about 10 p.m. or thereabouts) - with obligatory dog, of course.
The entire walk was about two and a half hours, partly because we tried taking a "shortcut" on the (old abandoned) road behind the house, which is more direct than walking back on the meandering creek. Completely untraveled by anything other than moose, it was all knee-deep, heavy, wet snow. It was miserable to wade through; even the dog was tired. (Probably more tired than we were; his legs are shorter, so knee-deep snow on us is belly-deep on him.) And then we came around a bend, and there about 50 yards in front of us was a moose in the middle of the road. Moose can be nasty at any time of year, but spring is especially bad, when they're worn out from the long winter, hungry, and often pregnant. We very quietly backtracked around the bend, and, having little choice, struck out cross-country for the creek again.
We were very glad to get home. And even more glad, I guess, that it's staying light so late; doing the last part of the hike as a race against oncoming darkness would have been doubly miserable. It's not really getting dark anymore (dim, but not dark) and I've had to block the bedroom window with cardboard because the sun is waking me up at 5 a.m.
... YES, IT STILL LOOKS LIKE THIS.
This is the beaver lake -- it's still completely frozen over, as you can see. That's the beaver house in the upper left quadrant of the picture, a little hump with tracks leading to and from it. I could see fresh beaver chew-marks on some of the trees, so they'd been out and about recently. Orion decided to try walking on the lake, but about three more steps after I took this picture, the 20 feet or so of snow in front of him abruptly settled 6 inches ... and we decided discretion was the better part of valor.
Here's a kinda neat picture of the sun setting over the creek ice as we were walking home (this is about 10 p.m. or thereabouts) - with obligatory dog, of course.
The entire walk was about two and a half hours, partly because we tried taking a "shortcut" on the (old abandoned) road behind the house, which is more direct than walking back on the meandering creek. Completely untraveled by anything other than moose, it was all knee-deep, heavy, wet snow. It was miserable to wade through; even the dog was tired. (Probably more tired than we were; his legs are shorter, so knee-deep snow on us is belly-deep on him.) And then we came around a bend, and there about 50 yards in front of us was a moose in the middle of the road. Moose can be nasty at any time of year, but spring is especially bad, when they're worn out from the long winter, hungry, and often pregnant. We very quietly backtracked around the bend, and, having little choice, struck out cross-country for the creek again.
We were very glad to get home. And even more glad, I guess, that it's staying light so late; doing the last part of the hike as a race against oncoming darkness would have been doubly miserable. It's not really getting dark anymore (dim, but not dark) and I've had to block the bedroom window with cardboard because the sun is waking me up at 5 a.m.