One thing I love about the snow is how it reveals the lives of our animal neighbors. Here is a squirrel highway, a path between two mounds. Now, I had actually helped to create that path the day before, before the snow. The day before that, Margy got a call from a local arborist that he had some wood chips we could have. For permaculture gardeners, wood chips are a boon, especially hardwood chips, especially lamial hardwood chips, which are from the small branches and leaves of the tree. They provide nutrients to help create the kind of soil that is best for fruit trees.
It seems ironic, because I don’t want trees to be cut down. But there is a circle of giving and receiving we humans have with trees, and when they are cut down, it feels so respectful to use their remains to feed other young trees and plants. It had been a difficult year to get any wood chips. The arborists we knew were mostly cutting diseased trees, which wouldn’t be good to introduce to the garden. So when Margy got the call, she said yes right away.
So the wood chips were delivered. The next day I noticed that where the big pile landed had kind of blocked off the pathway on the edge of the food forest. Last winter, I had strung a small string across the edges of the food forest as a gentle deterrent to deer who might possibly wander through. We had seen deer tracks before, though we didn’t actually see any last winter. But the idea was to leave one area free for them to traverse, hoping they’d choose that path on the way between the street and the back of the yard.
So what to do? I went out with a shovel and cleared an area between the wood chip pile and the finished compost pile (covered with a blue tarp), shoveling compost back a little, and wood chips back a little. That made the path. I don’t know if any deer will use it, but it was fun to see that the squirrels got the message.
When the sun rises on the day after a snow storm, there is so much beauty everywhere. The light, the lines of branches highlighted in white and gold, the patterns… and the songs of birds, which don’t show up in a photo but fill the air with more beauty as I walk along the city streets. I don’t usually like to post more than one photo but I can’t resist today. After my walk, I arrived home to find a flock of robins in the maple tree next door. Those berries in the photo are Asian Bittersweet–the invasive vines Margy is working to get rid of–but they do serve as a food source for birds in winter. The robins were singing too. How can anyone fail to appreciate such beauty as this morning’s sunrise brought to our world?
Now it feels like Maine again… Lovely snowstorm last night, still coming down and blowing around during my morning walk. But the cardinals were still singing, and this woodpecker was happy for the suet that Margy had put out.
I got off to a slow start today, and waited until afternoon to take a walk, after the sun came out. The bright light and shadows were playing over the cherry trees we planted last spring. (Further back are the stakes around the raspberries.) I feel such protective tenderness toward these trees. They are so little still. There is no way to tell how they are surviving the ups and downs of winter. We’ve had long bitter freezes, thaws, ice, snow storms… but so far, no deer nibbling. Sleep well little ones! Another storm is on the way for tomorrow.
The first winter after we installed solar panels on our new house, we discovered that when the snow melted on warm winter days, all the snow from the panels came down like an avalanche, right onto the deck, in the path from our back door that we used every day. I was out there shoveling first when the snow fell down, and then when the avalanche came down–sometimes in two or three segments. And that second snow was always heavy wet and dense. #thingsyouforgottodesignfor
We needed some sort of new plan. So we came up with an idea with our friend Ian, and he built this partial deck roof, using Tuftex polycarbonate roof panels and wood framing. It was wider than we first imagined, to use the support beams under the deck for the framing. Took longer than expected. Doesn’t everything. But such a relief now that it is up. The panels are clear to let the light shine through–though in this photo they have some snow cover. And they work–the snow avalanche slides down the solar panels, right cross the deck roof and lands in the space beyond.