The Uncomely In-between

Happy Vernal Equinox!



In some regions of the western hemisphere, the beautiful blush of spring is well underway. Here at Ravenseyrie we are yet in-between winter and spring,---which is, frankly, a rather uncomely time. The slow retreat of the snow reveals a landscape covered in semi-frozen manure, dissipated dead plant matter and the un-cached bones once carefully hidden away by the dogs. I've many times referred to our yard looking much more like an abandoned Viking encampment than the habitat of a tree-hugging vegan couple.

We've been graced with a lot of sunshine and sometimes even with temperatures above freezing. The open grasslands are now well exposed (or under water and ice), but at the edges and within the forest proper remains a depth of snow that yet measures above boot tops.

The horses and mules were actually friskier during the deep freeze of winter! Now their footing is too precarious for much reckless cavorting about, and anyhow, it feels so good to spend the day dozing and soaking up the sun or simply shuffling about in a mini-torpor, leaving behind piles of hay to pick at microscopic emerging grass shoots, heaving long equine sighs and dreaming of the full arrival of spring.

There has been no shedding of hair yet, which is good, because this morning the thermometer read just 10°F for the first calendar day of spring. Everything was frozen solid and frosty at dawn. But now, we are above freezing with the steady pulsing of the March sun working magic over the landscape once again.

I have a few videos embedded with today's journal entry; one taken this morning, the other two taken several days ago. Let's look at today's footage first (after an introduction to what we'll be viewing):

I had noticed while out walking that occasionally one or two of the horses would leave their breakfast hay and wander over to the edge of the seasonal run off, where just the day before a good fresh drink could be had. It seemed to me that even though the ice I was walking on was frozen solid, and the spot where the horses were traveling to was equally firm, yet they each appeared to be taming their thirsts just the same.

Altamiro is leaving the ice hole, while Bella is now taking her drink. Below, a close up of her drinking from the ice hole. I made a wide half circle so that on the return of my walk I could investigate this spot the horses appeared to be drinking from. I found several areas where the foot prints from the horses passage during the melt had left big holes in the ice that were now frozen over, but not so thickly that I couldn't vigorously poke through to the water below with my walking stick. I scanned the snow-packed-ice until I saw slight hoof print impressions near the hole that Bella and Altamiro had been drinking from earlier. It was my good fortune that as I was appreciating the marvel of this drinking hole, Animado came along to have a drink too. I snapped a few photos and then recorded some video footage of him drinking:

This makes me so happy to see the horses getting fresh water like this, and the small opening reminds me of the little stainless steel troughs of the automatic waterers installed in some barns with water always at the ready.

When the temperature is above freezing, during this uncomely in-between time at Ravenseyrie, the horses can pretty much get water any where they want. Zeus has just slacked his thirst in this photo and seems to be contemplating the change of seasons while he stands on a bit of high ground:

Part of the landscape looked incredibly odd a few days ago as the water below the ice would seem to swell up and freeze glacier like:
While it was still quite frozen, Maeb seemed to take even more pleasure than normal in playing with her red ball (which is actually a horse ball, but Maeb made herself owner of it, exclusively. I have one photo and then some video footage. I would be surprised that you don't find yourself grinning and laughing after viewing these images!

The snow-pack from the yard and by the fence where the horses eat their morning oats has begun to thaw, and Kevin has painstakingly chipped out little canals encouraging the water to flow away from the sheds. This particular canal, however, is one that nature formed on her own and it was flowing like a river the other day.

For the past two years we've had a pair of Canada Geese that spend the spring with us. They have returned again this year (one week earlier than last year), and I can get some nicer photos now that I have a better camera.
A lone Redwing Blackbird made an appearance on the same day the Canada Geese returned. I heard his distinct voice, saw him in the apple tree and took a photo. I love this camera!:

Our domestic geese haven't been able yet to make their way down to the seasonal lake in the grassland area, so they make the best of things in the puddles in our yard. They are very much aware that the "fair-weather" Canada Geese have returned and they seem to project an air of haughtiness and ownership of the area--after all they have stuck it out here for the entire winter, unlike the wimpy wild geese who left for warmer locales when things got tough.
Uncomely as parts of the landscape are in this "in-between" time, there are yet some truly beautiful scenes, and so much promise of renewal, one has to embrace the uglier elements, for they serve as a bridge between winter and spring, and I for one, am ready to walk across it!

Pleasures Amidst Wretched Weather

The gods cannot make up their mind what type of weather to sling down upon us here at Ravenseyrie.

As I've relayed in prior entries, the weather here has been unsettled since late November when winter came early and has presented us with one storm after another, with nary a break in between. On Christmas day, you saw photos of our deep snow and the blessing of a bit of sunshine and non-brutal temperatures. Even into the first part of Boxing Day, we had a reprieve from winter's capriciousness. But that was soon to change as more heavy snow came falling down only to be shortly followed by a rapid rise in the temperature.

With the air temperature now above freezing, all that snow began to melt and the high wind assisted the transmutation. The effect yesterday was as if our bluff was entertaining a host of visiting fog entities.

With the snow vastly reduced and the mildness of the air (even with the stiff winds) the pups and I felt a trek out to the "Top of the World" was in order. When we first began our hike, the fog was low and rode the wind in a horizontal ribbon through the forest at the bluff's edge. I filmed it, because I wanted to show you how "alive" this fog was, with personality and obviously some place to go...but I couldn't hold the camera steady and the footage is no good.

When we got to the "Top of the World" there was a break in the fog, slightly, and I was able to get a few photos that were not so diffuse as the the others.Tobacco looks majestic as he, too, observes the world from the bluff's edge.

Through the telephoto lens we can see that the thaw and the wind have broken up the freezing mantle that had been forming over the North Channel.

Then the rain came...

We were ready this time...ready to convince the melt water to not flood our poor natty shed which is our only "barn" like structure and is where we keep garden tools, breakfast oats, several day's rations of hay (the rest is under tarps in the yard) and Kevin's smaller tractor. This very weather pattern--heavy snow, with a day of above freezing temperatures and copious amounts of rain was experienced just over a week ago on December 15th. Then it all flash froze! Out came the pick axes as we chipped free doors, gates, wheel barrels, etc. This flooding happens each spring, and is messy as can be, but doesn't freeze and soon is drained off.

A photo from a year or so ago, showing how our large round bales of hay are stored.

To avoid another freezing up of our flooded shed, Kevin managed to dig a hole in the frozen ground inside the shed and rigged up a sump pump with flexible piping fed through the back wall to drain out behind. And its working beautifully! Which is good, because within an hour the temperature was dropping and the wind and snow returned.

Did you know that one of the key elements immigration officers look for when someone applies for permanent residency status in Canada is the applicant's potential for adaptability. Both Kev and I scored well in this regard and its a good thing, because with such harsh and rapidly changing weather conditions, were we not adaptable, we'd have to sell our place and move to the city. That would be much more difficult for us to cope with than toughing it out on the East Bluff on Manitoulin Island!

Let's compare now some of the photos taken just in the last two days:

A scene from 26Dec08

A scene from 28Dec08, mid-morning

A scene from 28Dec08, early afternoon


Our two geese were very pleased with the rain and melting.

Here they are later that same day, with the snow falling, again.

Jerry nibbles on old Tansy stalks, mid-morning 28Dec08


But the scene soon changed, in just a few hours!


Morning
Morning, with a vast seasonal lake forming


Just hours later

The melt water lake, was mostly over compacted ice, effectively cutting us off from our usual routes to places in the woods where we can feed the herd protected from the elements. We had to settle for a section to the west, which was an amazing struggle for all of us to get to, since we had to go straight into the wind and driving snow, with tricky footing beneath us. The horses and mules are amazing to watch at times like these--the care they take in finding the best route, and then when they know they are on more stable ground how they take off bucking and running to the shelter of the woods.

It felt really mild there, at this particular woodland edge, and as we went in a little deeper, it we hardly felt the weather at all. This spot isn't as snug as some of the others, but we were sure happy to be able to reach it and get the herd out of the wind. With a plastic bag over my camera, I tried to take a few photos. I would have loved to get photos of us all bent into the elements working our way across the open land to get to the shelter of the woods, but it was just to wild to manage. Coming back, with the wind at our backs was wild, too...and several times Kev and I nearly got blown off our feet! How exhilarating it is here! I love being out in the elements!We've almost made it to the windless side of the woods, but still have a little ways to go.

This spot is not yet fully protected, but some of the herd preferred to stay at the edge, rather than go deeper into the woods...maybe because of the way the trees were wildly swaying?

This spot is much more protected, and its one that Mistral surely appreciates.

Okay, there have been quite a few questions in the comments section of recent journal entries. Today is a good day to revisit these queries and share an answer or two.

Kris inquired: "A technical question -- does your camera manual specify minimum temperature at which the camera will function the way it is supposed to? Mine does -- it's 20 degrees F. I shoot in weather colder than that by keeping the camera inside my jacket, next to my body when I'm not actually taking photos. Just curious... and impressed that your camera seems to be as hardy as you are. :-) "

I'm impressed with this camera, too, Kris! I reread the instruction manual the only cautionary comments it gives regarding temperature is to make sure the camera isn't left sitting in the hot sun and when moving from a warm to cold environment, one should take care that there is no build up of condensation by exposing it to rapid changes of temperature.

Eva wrote: "-5 does seem a bit extreme. Does the lake freeze? How are the equines getting water? Does it hurt to breathe, and do little icicles form on your nose hanging down? How do you keep your house warm? I can think of nothing more desirable than a thick, natural fur coat."

Eva, minus 5 (°F) isn't extreme here...it gets much colder than that in January and February...but thankfully not for more than one or two days. It's much colder out in the Canadian mid-western provinces.

The lake does freeze, typically not until sometime in January. It looked like it was going to freeze early this year, but with the melt, the rain and the high winds, all the ice that had been forming was broken up. Once it freezes, we won't see Lake Huron again until sometime in late April.

The horses don't go to the lake in winter, they eat snow, and also there is a curious depression in the land, not too far from the house where the water pools up and never freezes. Even with several feet of snow over the top of it, the horses paw through the snow and the water is right there for the taking. I have a photo of it, but don't have it on this computer.

It rarely gets so cold that it hurts to breathe. It often is cold enough to cause little icicles to form on our noses hanging down.

We heat our house with two small wood stoves. One in the kitchen, which is in constant use, and one in the basement that we only fire up when their is extreme sub-zero weather. Last year we only had this stove fired up twice! I have a lovely photo of the kitchen stove, but not on this computer, though I did find one of the basement stove. We stay plenty warm, just ask Tobacco and Siamese:
Eva asks: "OK here is an idea: have you considered feeding the horses closer to your house, so you won't have to haul the hay all the way out? Wouldn't the horses figure out where the food is and make the trip?"

When the weather isn't wicked, the horses come up to the house for meals. The problem is that we are smack in the middle of an open prairie, high up on a bluff...when the temperature is frigid and the wind is up (quite a frequent thing!) it would be deadly to spend any length of time exposed to the elements. We have quite a few locations that the herd goes to depending on the prevailing winds, and we bring their hay out to them there when the weather is wretched. Some of the cattle ranchers out here tell us that we are doing things the hard way and should just put one of our round bales out in the woods as needed. But this isn't how we like to do it--its too hands off, makes it difficult for everyone to get a good meal and creates too much wasted hay. Even though it is truly hard at times, we love bringing the food out to the herd and feeling how nice it is to be in the woods out of the elements and it gives us opportunity to interact with them two or three times daily.

Annemiek asks: "There was a discussion going on about Natural trim and snow. I was very surprised to learn that several horses with a natural trim had the same problem Rudolf had. Snow and ice forming under the hoof so it seems the horse walks on high heels. Have you ever seen such a thing on one of your horses? There were offered all kinds of theories on this subject, from the temperature of the hoof to the concavity of the hoof. I was just wondering about your horses, and mules. You have different breeds over there, are there any differences in the horses hoofs and their ability to adapt to the snow that you know of?"

All the mules and horses will from time to time form snowballs under their hooves. They adjust their movements accordingly, and the snow clumps fall out when they are moving around much, and they move around a lot, no matter what the conditions are. The only thing that slows them down is ice. Snowballs under the hooves are more of a problem in traditional stable situations and for people who are riding their horses in snow. But for a semi-wild herd, snow clumps are just part of winter and something that doesn't appear to slow them down a bit.

Yesterday, we lost power for much of the day, and when this happens, we again discuss our desire to put up solar panels or maybe a wind generator--wind is something we have lots of, so this is something we do plan to get set up for in the future. The contraptions are still so expensive, and we're hoping in a few more years the prices will come down. We went about our day with little thought to not having power, (though it meant we couldn't do any interneting) and with the small kitchen wood stove, I had dinner nearly made, with a wonderful aroma filling the house. I was just getting the oil lamps ready to light when the power came back on--I was almost disappointed! But as rugged as we are, we, too, like our creature comforts. I like them all the more for having to work as hard as we do to live here at Ravenseyrie. This life brings out something noble in each of us, I think...I find myself continually admiring the strength and positive attitude Kevin has, no matter what kind of day faces him. It is the same acceptance that I see in the animals as well. There are elements in each of them that glow greater because of the extra effort the demands of living in a harsh, remote environment require. This makes me absolutely love it here! It is maybe a bit easier for me to be happy here...I seem to have a resonance of belonging to some ancient ice age group of horse-loving people...it feels like this is right where I am meant to be. How can one not be thankful for a feeling such as this?

To end this long entry, two videos, one that let's you hear the wind as I pan over the landscape while standing on the north deck of the house. The other, taken also from the deck, shows how Altamiro and Zeus enjoy passing time, even though the weather was so weird and wild.