Cold Pleasures and Treasures

Long-time readers of this blog will know that I really do find much to love about winter's cold and snow and ice. But it does take a few early outings to reset my inner thermostat from misery to toleration to actual enjoyment of winter's frigid charms. This year, the cold and snow arrived earlier than usual, and I'd probably still be huddling indoors if my pal Sue Pierce hadn't poked me to get on out and start the toleration process. Sue also urged our pal Dana to join us at Moreau Lake State Park this past Monday, where Sue took this photo of Dana and me on the breezy lakeshore, where I'm still huddling within several layers of thick winter garments, while Dana appears quite comfortable hatless and wearing bluejeans. I believe the temps were still below 20. And a brisk breeze was trying to worm inside my winterwear defenses. Brrrr!

Photo by Sue Pierce

We shortly sought the windless shelter of the lakeside forest, which also offered the body-warming challenge of climbing up some hills.

Our goal was to see how the freezing cold might have festooned with crystalline beauty the creek that tumbles down the mountainside here.

But since the creek held only a very small trickle of water, the energetic splashing that in other winters has tossed up fabulous icy bank-side accretions was minimal so far this year.  And the water that collected in pools was not yet frozen.

So, OK, let's just take a walk across the bridge and along the trail, to see what we can find of interest. We could actually feel the warmth of pale sunlight without a brisk wind blowing any warmth away.

It was fun to try to ID what we saw along the trail.  These tiny fleur-de-lis shapes littering the snow are the scales from the seedpods of some species of birch.  I'm not sure which species.  Both Black Birch and Gray Birch are common in this woods. 

I did recognize these bristly little teardrop-shaped seedpods as those of the wildflower called Enchanter's Nightshade.

And this slender branching plant with its hard, split seedpods was probably Sweet Cicely, a lime-loving wildflower. We knew that lime-rich marble boulders were present not far away.

And this squiggly remnant of some kind of vine was most likely from one of our wild grapes.

Glimpses through the trees of the blue lake and its sun-lit shores tempted us to return to those shores. Perhaps we might see some waterfowl, or even a Bald Eagle fishing the wide-open water.

As we approached the lakeshore, we were excited to observe the trails of Otters sliding along through the snow.

Some well-defined paw-prints confirmed that these were indeed Otter trails.

And look where those Otters were heading: right into the icy-cold water of the lake. Otters have such thick furry coats, the cold water never reaches their skin.  And of course, the lake waters hold the fish that Otters love to eat.

We next discovered the Otters' latrine, right next to the shore. I bet if we'd poked the stuff apart, we'd have found some fish scales among it.

Although the lake was mostly still unfrozen, there were wide shelves of ice along this north-facing shore. Some of the ice was even thick enough that we could walk on it.  In this photo, Sue is using her camera's zoom to photograph the Muskrat she has spied walking on a similar ice shelf some distance down the shore.

I noticed a trail on the snow-dusted ice close to shore, and the prints of small feet bunched together indicated that this was possibly the trail of a Mink, another Weasel Family member that enters the water even in winter to hunt for fish. A Mink's gait reminds me of an inchworm, looping along. They also sometimes slide on their bellies as the Otters do, just not as frequently or for such long distances.

Walking along the shore close to where the ice met the water, we finally encountered some of the icy beauty that makes our chilled discomfort dismissible. These glistening baubles seemed to glow with a shining light.

In places, the ice had frozen as clear as glass, except where the freezing had captured rafts of bubbles, both miniature and bulbous.

Where wavelets had tossed up droplets on the underside of this icy shelf, they promptly froze there, creating lines of small circles that resembled strings of glass beads.

Bubbles of gas released by decomposing underwater organic matter were trapped in the ice, resembling silver coins.

Wow!  While I could understand how some of these frozen ice features might have been formed, the forces that created this frieze of vertical lines remains a mystery to me. Did some strong vibration occur before the slushy ice turned hard? Or what? I really cannot imagine!

So there! Sometimes enduring winter's cold seems just too daunting for me. And then I see something like this.