Some of you are losing your smiles. I am hearing those late winter gripes - “When is this going to end?” Even though this last snow didn’t really clobber us the way it clobbered others, we are in the midst of a record-setting snow season . Some of you have lost your perspective. You say this is no fun. But you are very mistaken - this is snow fun!

This snow is wetter and heavier than its predecessors so shoveling is not part of the fun for the kids. Zach tackles the sidewalk and Emerson tries for a bit to help but finds the snow too heavy. He tries to build a snowman. He tries to roll the snow into a big ball but the snow has a funny texture at first and doesn’t quite stick enough. He just piles up snow the best he can. Scavenging outdoors, he adds traprock eyes and a sprig of spruce as the mouth.

He wants no help and makes quick work of this. There are too many other things to do with the snow - climb it, make tracks, make snow angels, go sledding. Emerson does it all. When he is done, ready to rest, we go on a snowman tour.

Now I’m not sure when the last snowman census was conducted, nor just what trends it might have revealed, but it seems pretty clear to me that snowmen are almost becoming an endangered race. Have we forgotten how much fun snowmen are? And snowladies? I’m not sure I saw one snowlady this season. What fun is that? I remember when my sister Linda made a rather buxom snowlady on her front lawn. I think it was the first and only time the local paper welcomed nudity on their pages!

Tonight, well fed and under cover of darkness, we decided to give the gift of a snowman to Auntie Lyn. Together we rolled the requisite three large balls of snow. The snow was wet from some melting during the day, and beginning to crust over in the cold. With some struggle, we assembled the body parts and scavenged the nearby roadside and driveway for some facial features. We gave the snowman two faces - one facing the road and one facing the house. I hope it makes it through the night.

Go ahead and gripe about the snow all you want but it is the snowpeople who have the most valid complaint. Just look around. The approach of spring presents a real threat to their well-being. Green grass at their feet? That’s scary business. The lengthening day - now there’s a real seasonal affective disorder! The rise of morning bird song? It all sounds like a funeral dirge to them. Don’t be surprised when you find the snowpeople in your neighborhood all slumped over and losing their smiles! Just help them out, and pick it up off the ground for them.

At this point in the season, I have to admit that I watch each coming snow storm with some level of amusement. The snow brings uncomfortable, challenging and even outright dangerous conditions at times but we need only to look at the calendar to see that we are just about to flip a page to . . . Spring. We all just need a sense of humor.

With fresh snow falling this morning it is hard not to be excited. While the older children go off school (for an early dismissal day), my youngest lad puts on his boots, grabs his hat, gloves, and snowsuit to get ready for the snow that will surely accumulate today. Right now it is snowing but almost 40 degrees.

Just yesterday Emerson and I were listening to a cardinal sing - “Spring is near, near, near” it seemed to be insisting.  Cardinals and titmice start singing in earnest in mid-February and despite the snow, this year is no different.

Before heading out the door, Emerson spies the birds “going crazy” outside. I ask him what he means and he says “Look” pointing at the juncos hopping to and fro in search of seeds before the snow covers them again. “Why don’t we feed them?”

Outside we hear only crows this morning. I grab a big pan full of birdseed and Emerson and I take a tour around the yard. By the handful, Emerson begins scattering birdseed, throwing some toward the juncos, then atop of snow piles, along the sidewalk, and underneath the trees. He is making his offering to the birds.

As we toss some seed together upon the exposed flower beds beneath the spruces, we find a little bit of spring. Under snow for the last couple weeks, the green tips of some of our spring plants are poking out of the earth. “Spring is near” I tell Emerson. “Yes, Daddy, but let’s have some fun in the snow.”

My last post here was entitled “Bring It On”. Well, it was brought on all right. Depending on your age, we are now hip deep in snow and it has been some time since this amount of snow lingered on this landscape. This of course has led to a significant amount of snow shoveling but it has also led to other pastimes as well.

This second batch of deep snow - 18″ at our house - had a little more heft to it. Luckily, my shoveling strategy paid off, with one round of digging during the lull in the storm and then, of course, more digging at the very end. Because this snow had a higher moisture content, it was more compactable. Through the course of clearing our driveway and sidewalks, we managed to craft a couple of modest snow forts.

The end of the storm brought on a memorable snowball fight in our neighborhood. Oh, the joys of compactable snow! Everyone came in at dark, completely covered with snow from head to toe. Now this is how snow should be enjoyed!

It was nice to see a few snowmen (and some women too) appear in the aftermath of this storm. Several snowpeople inhabit our neighborhood now though some are not in the best of health. With brilliant sunshine and daytime temperatures above freezing, some have fallen over, lost body parts or are leaning precariously.

The deep snow has made every hill, large or small, attractive for sledding. By sledding, I don’t actually mean the Flexible Flyer type with two metal runners - this is too deep. This is toboggan snow, suitable for inflatable discs, plastic discs, and other assorted snow toys with broad surfaces. We enjoyed some serious sliding but we’ll have more on this later.

The continuous snowfall has left little time for writing here. Instead, we have been busy enjoying this wonderful gift of deep snow . . . digging, sculpting, building, sliding, and having snowball fights. Frankly, I am exhausted and it seems like the snow just keeps coming. I’ll continue about the snow next time but in the meantime, I am going to rest and get some new snow shovels.

It’s snowing outside. The kids are going to bed knowing that school has already been canceled for tomorrow whether this storm really buries us or not. Emerson is hoping that this is a good “building” snow. I prefer the dry powdery snow that was left behind after the last snowstorm. It was very easy to shovel.

I will be glad to have new snow cover - more blank pages for the local denizens to inscribe with their secret stories. I enjoyed exploring these tracks with Emerson. They were also a big hit with visitors and programs at the Nature Center.

With our preschool Birds and Pinecone Feeders program, youngsters admired the bird tracks in the snow. Their tracks appear in pairs, revealing their hopping pattern. Emerson loves imitating this and leaving his “bird tracks”. While deep snow can be a problem for larger animals to move around in,  birds have no problem hopping across the surface without falling through. If you look closely, you will see the feather and wingprints where the birds took flight.

Like the birds, white-footed mice have no problem moving across the surface of the snow. They too move by hopping but leave prints of their four tiny feet. As they hop they usually leave a mark where their tail drags in the snow. In the forest they often use runways, disappearing into hollows in trees or fallen logs. Here are the tracks of a crazy mouse taking a rather scenic route from one location to another.

While the kids may relish the snow, a deep snow presents a challenge for animals like the skunk. Skunks have rather short legs so they leave a lot of tracks as they wander.  At the Nature Center, a skunk has left its meandering trail of tracks as it investigated all the old groundhog holes in the area. Because of its short legs, the skunk actually plowed its way through the snow.

Once this storm has ended, the snow will collect more and more tracks. They are easy to find, even in your neighborhood. Join your children and explore.  In the meantime, I know that this snow will fuel some snow dreams tonight in our house.  Have a great day off tomorrow kids!

Did you get out in the snow today? Many of us had to address the snow in some laborious manner but it is hard to argue with the beauty and awe of a big snowstorm. My youngest child, not burdened by any pretext of labor, pulled me outside early this morning while it was still snowing.

Excited to help me shovel the driveway and sidewalks, Emerson grabbed his kid-sized snow shovel, and guided by wonder, helped in his own way. He took a couple of digs alongside the car, tossing each fluffy shovel full into the wind. This was gloriously light stuff.  Distracted by the depth of the snow, he headed out into the lawn to make a serpentine set of tracks.

Watching me shoveling on the driveway, Emerson soon joined me again at the task.  We created several mounds of snow at several locations along the driveway. Emerson tried to climb them but sunk into them as their light fluffy nature would not support his weight. He nestled in one of the mounds and together we modified it so that it became fort-like.

Thus went our day - the endless attraction of snow. We fed the birds, tossing seeds on the snow. We made more tracks. We dug and frolicked and made snow angels. We warmed up inside with tea (me) and hot chocolate. Returning outside we went sledding at the school. We saw someone trying their hand at kite skiing. We took a walk. We returned home and were soon found by a nap.

Next to my bed is a copy of Ezra Jack Keats’ The Snowy Day. This classic book was a Holiday gift for Emerson from his teacher. Thank you, Ms. Alecia! The book is simple and charming in capturing the magic of snow. In between snows we have been reading this book, over and over. I could not recommend a winter children’s book more highly.

Another light snow. My older kids appreciate the delayed opening for school but use it to lounge a little. I, on the other hand, cannot wait to get outside to do a little tracking in the season of love.

Valentine’s Day is in February but this is also the month of courtship for many of our mammals. A fresh snowfall in February is very revealing as the animals leave their stories in the snow. Opossums are looking for love, raccoons are randy and skunks are hungry for more than grubs. My favorite, to watch and track, the red foxes, are paired and very active.

After breakfast, I take my youngest son outside and as we shovel the driveway, he spies the cat tracks. “Look Daddy - fox tracks!” This is my cue - my journey to the babysitter and work HAS to include a visit to the Watershed Reserve with Emerson.

Entering the driveway you could see the jackpot of tracks in the snow. A skunk walking down the driveway. Deer heading into the woods. Fox tracks everywhere. Emerson smiled ear-to-ear as we discovered squirrel tracks stitching their trails from tree to tree. We followed fox tracks which were soon joined by another and before we knew it, we discovered a den. There were tracks everywhere. It was wonderfully dizzying.

A February snow is THE PERFECT time to take your child out to discover the mystery of animal tracks. It is a chance to glimpse the secret lives of your invisible animal neighbors. Whether you know what you are looking at or not doesn’t matter. Watch your child’s excitement as you discover different footprints and track patterns. Enjoy the adventure of following tracks to some unknown destination. Examine the clues that might tell you what you are looking at. Snow season will end soon but a February snow is a gift that one must accept.

I believe it is time for a snow dance!

I remember the joy and excitement of expanding my geographical boundaries when I was growing up. Some moments are preserved so vividly in my memory. I was probably around three years old when I first crawled beneath the hanging boughs of some backyard evergreens to discover a hidden world - cool, dark and pine-scented, and until then, completely unknown. When we moved to New Jersey, pioneers of a future development in a large fallow farm field, the frontier was measured by features in the landscape - the next line of rusty barbed-wire fencing, the remnants of an old farm tractor, or thicket rich in sweet, plump blackberries.

With my friends, as we grew older, we pushed our frontier in several directions - out across the expansive Washington Crossing State Park by trail and by stream, down into an old abandoned summer camp site along the Jacob’s Creek, and along all the still-rural roads in Hopewell Township. This process was an important part of growing up, filling us with sense of adventure and accomplishment, and leading to discovery. I still carry with me that sense of curiosity and wonder that leads me into the uncharted.

Now we are not talking about being true pioneers here - this is, after all, suburban New Jersey. But we are talking about heading in an unknown landscape, eager to discover and embrace whatever opportunities present themselves - choosing a route, climbing on rocks, hunting  salamanders, or just about anything.

I’ve been eager to explore some parcels of land nearby that have been preserved by two of my favorite land conservation groups - Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space and the D & R Greenway Land Trust.  This seemed to provide the necessary “hook” to entice one of my older sons into going outdoors. We were dropped off at a small parking area in the woods and began to follow a small, unmarked trail into uncharted territory. Read the rest of this entry »

It was so wonderfully cold just a few days ago. I miss the cold already but “I am so glad it is warming up” seems to be the conventional opinion. It is funny how 45 degrees feels so warm after a windchill near zero. This evening just after sunset I listened to two courting foxes go on and on about the warmth, or maybe something a bit more romantic.

The coldness of winter is really just part of the charm. Just dress warmly, in layers, so that you can be comfortable, especially the extremities - hat, gloves, and warm, wooly socks. If you do this and get the kids outdoors, they will quickly show you the magic.

A big part of the magic is simply the ice. The ground crunches beneath your feet. Puddles become miniature skating rinks and often wear elaborate designs of sinuous curves and concentric circles. Ponds freeze solid and dramatically change the landscape. Small streams freeze, becoming quick pathways through the frozen terrain.

It was ice, or the prospect of “skating” on the ice that lured my children outdoors recently. We visited nearby Amwell Lake, because it was among the area ponds and lakes named in the fishing report in the local paper as safe for ice fishing. After lots of sliding around we went out to visit some ice fishermen who taught us a bit about catching fish and staying warm in winter.

Getting out onto ice is not for everyone. The ice was five inches thick BUT the center of the pond was still open, courtesy of the nightly visits by large rafts of geese seeking the safety of open water. Ice can be rather tricky so the key here is to be safe, set some rules (”Never without a responsible adult.”) and teach the children a healthy respect for ice. On our visit learned quite a bit about ice fishing, saw an ice trap in action catching a largemouth bass, discovered some beaver activity and had loads of fun sliding around on the ice. BE CAREFUL - with the weather warming up, there won’t likely be safe ice on the ponds for awhile though we may still have some ice fun on puddles.

Ice remained the theme for our cold adventure. We tossed rocks at the Neshanic River, struggling to break through the ice to earn a simple splash. We marched and hopped along the South Branch River, crunching the ice. We stomped on puddles, harvesting the ice and floating it downstream like a boat or iceberg. From upstream floating patches of ice became targets for the river rocks we threw. Zach even launched a giant shelf of ice, loosening it from the edge of the river with some careful planning and a long heavy branch.

To some folks, this might not sound like much. We know better. We had a tremendous time playing. While we were having fun we were getting fresh air and exercise, sharpening some real skills.  Motor skills were tested, hypotheses were formulated, and experiments were conducted. The kids engaged in problem-solving and didn’t even know it! That is the beauty of free play outdoors. What feels like good-old-fashioned fun is also healthy child development.  And while the kids didn’t really recognize the value of all of this play, they did notice how much better hot chocolate tastes after a good spell of adventure outdoors in winter!    

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It’s cold out. Even the kids notice it. There is so much to see and do outside but sometimes it takes a little coercion to get our children outside. Or the parents outside. A little bit of snow helps, at least for my youngest.

While most of our favorite outdoor pastimes in winter involve snow, Emerson surprised me with the last bit of snow we had. Though it was only a tiny bit, we enjoyed some of the usual activities. I hope he never tires of tracking, of the mystery and discovery. In fact, in addition to tracking, my five year old really enjoyed the simple aesthetics of snow. “Everything looks so different” he tells me.

Out in the cold, dreary meadow, the Queen Anne’s lace has taken on a new persona. Adorning the stark architecture of last year’s lacy flowers, are little tufts of snow. Each dried flower holds in its grasp, a small collection of snow, once destined to blanket the ground, but instead, now hovering above. We admire the show - quite a phenomenon. We meet a student from Montgomery High School, shooting pictures as part of his photography class. I suggest he check out the magic in those old flowers.

That is exactly what Emerson and I do. Emerson smiles and wades out among the flowers, dodging the occasional thorny rose bush. He grabs the stem of a Queen Anne’s lace and bends the flower to get a better look. He gets a curious grin while examining the dried flower. “Hey Daddy, look - a snow cone!” He eats the snow right off the top of the Queen Anne’s lace! He grabs the next flower and eagerly repeats the action, his grin growing now. He invites me to try it. I join in this joyous celebration of wildflowers in winter. Thank you Emerson for this delicious treat!

The little bit of snow that just fell is a disappointment for my older children. No snowballs, no forts, no sledding. The timing is all wrong too - no school to be cancelled. They should be grateful - no snow shoveling.

My youngest, on the other hand, shares my exuberance for the beauty of the snow. We choose to go hiking simply to enjoy nature with this slight accompaniment of snow. We also like the notion that we can go tracking - follow animal tracks.

We head for a local park for a change of scenery. We could find plenty of tracks around the house - bird, cat, and squirrel - but just want to explore somewhere new. Skipping down the trail, Emerson stops suddenly, right in his tracks - “Look at all of these footprints!” He marvels at all the great many people tracks - I tell him we are not the only ones who enjoy the snow.

We find the tiny paired “fork” tracks of sparrows and juncos along the trail. He carefully examines the squirrel tracks, even counting the toes on each track. “Hey Daddy, this one has four toes, and the other one has five toes!” He discovers the difference between the front and back feet of squirrels.

We follow some of the tracks off the trail. Many of the bird tracks are “dead-ends” - the bird simply switched from hopping to flying, no longer leaving tracks. Other animals lead right into the thickets - “Come on Daddy - let’s go in there.” It looks like a cat on the prowl for one of those sparrows. Some of the human tracks have companion tracks - children and dogs. We also find tracks of deer and a fox.

With only a few avian exceptions, we see none of the track-makers.  They are gone, hidden, invisible. That is part of their magic. These animals passed through here at another time yet we can “see” them now.  They stitched their passage right into the snow, revealing only a tiny part of their story.

Emerson realizes this as he notices our tracks. He starts walking backwards so he can watch his tracks as they appear in the snow. Soon he is running in circles and zig-zags, hopping to-and-fro, glancing over his shoulder at his footprints. He is simply writing his spirit all over this meadow.

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