First Pasque Flowers!

I just found this pasque flower (Anemone patens) today on my walk to my phenology plot. I call it a northern crocus because it is the first flower to bloom in the tundra and it's of similar size (we can't grow crocuses sadly). I was so excited to see 4 or 5 of these little guys today!

I'll be gone for the next few days as I have to head back to Los Anchorage tonight for the Disreputable Dog's second operation (right rear leg). He goes in at 7:30 in the morning and won't be out until the next day. I've been so encouraged at his progress from the first operation (left rear leg) but I am not looking forward to him going back to pathetically in pain again for a few weeks.

Sharp-shinned Love Affair

This weekend was a busy one. I dismantled an old dog run, I dismantled an old compost pile (with yummy albeit frozen composted soil in it), I built 4 planting beds + 2 half planting beds (i.e. they aren't finished and yes, that yummy compost is going in them), I went to a seed swap where everyone complained about voles (so I lined the bottoms of my new planting beds with fine wire salvaged from the dog runs - I'll post pix when the last two are finished), I dismantled and moved two beds and reassembled, and I watched, mostly listened, to a lovesick pair of sharp-shinned hawks.

It started Friday night while we were having a hurried dinner out on the picnic tables before rushing off to see the premiere of a local high school history film (which was fabulously well done I might add). We kept hearing these, at the time, unseen hawks just going off. We speculated but we had to get on the road. The next day though they were in full form. They seem to have claimed the land we have lived on as part of their territory as they kept swapping places on one particular aspen tree. Maybe we'll be lucky and have a nest! Or not so lucky as far as seeing any other birds this summer - I noticed that it had gone deadly quite where the other birds were concerned. However this weekend I did see my first spring robin and this morning on my bike ride in I heard my first varied thrush. While at the seed swap we had tundra swans and a bald eagle flying overhead. That and a week of really warm weather and it must be summer, even if the ground is still frozen half an inch down!

First Snow

It's here - the first snows above 8,000ft in elevation. We even had storm warnings this weekend. I hear from my friends in Fairbanks that there is already enough snow on the ski trails to make them usable.

Autumn Glory

I've been out enjoying the fall colors this "weekend" (my weekend being Sun/Mon this week). This weekend is probably the peak for fall colors up in the high country. Today I went for an over-the-continental-divide drive with my parents to enjoy the views. My dad and I really wanted to get my mom out to see the color but it was touch and go as to whether we could because she had another set-back with her eyes and was extremely light sensitive. Luckily she was able to go - fortified with heavy black glasses and a big hat. She loves the colors as much as I do and I think it cheered her immensely. The dogs enjoyed it immensely as well - nothing better then going on old dirt road with your head out the window and occasionally stopping for little meanders and walks.

Ephemeral Glory

After too many 10 hour work days on my feet it's glorious to take my break out on my bike and see this.

Fall Colors

There are some mighty fine displays of color going on right now. I love fall, love kicking my feet through fallen leaves and the raspy sounds they make as they fly by. I love the intensity of color and watch it as if I will never see color again. I love the winds that rastle by in gusts - more fickle and tempermental then other times of year. I love the harvest the preparations for the winter, the first dustings of snow, the crispness of the air, and the slowing down of activities after the frenetic pace of summer.

Spring - the first Crocus

Spring is here in Colorado. There may still be as much as 4 to 6 feet of snow on the ground in places and there are still storms ahead of us but the tide has turned. The daylight has reached a point where the snows will not last. The first crocus of the season flowered today in my mother's garden, there are newly born calves slumbering in the ranchers fields, the tips of willows have turned either purple/reddish or bright orange as the sap returns to their limbs to swell the buds, and best of all, the scents of the earth have returned, floating up to our noses once again after having been frozen much of the winter.

I must admit, I find this an early spring. February is a tough month usually in the northern hemisphere. It usually holds the promise of spring without actually seeing it through. It is for all it's short days, often the longest feeling month of the year. The year when the darkness and the snow and the cold presses on us and we wish for green grass and cherry blossoms and long forgotten warm summer afternoons.

This year, February does not affect me so much, partially because on coming south from Alaska in December I sped up the daylight increase in my own life and having gotten quite used to a spring that is not visible until May I am a bit shocked to find evidence of it in February. Delighted but startled. Every year I have always marked the two scent events of the spring, the day I can first smell the sea, and the day I can first smell the earth. The sea is usually scent-able several days, sometimes even weeks, before the earth. There is no sea here but the smell of earth is clear, musty, and damp, and earthy; of humus and mulch and mud.

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For those of you interested in the Yukon Quest, Kyla Boivin finished off the Quest as the Red Lantern winner on Feb 23rd. Good going Kyla!!! You can check out pictures of the Finish Banquet and learn about who won what awards here: http://www.yukonquest.com/site/news-articles/?articleid=1615

Seasonal Goodbyes

It's time to say goodbye again. Today this little guy (photo taken by my volunteer of an intern) and his companion, both rescued baby otters, leave our rescue & rehabilitation facilities for the Minnesota zoo. Their cries will no longer echo into our offices - something between a bird whistle and a cat scream. And daily we are losing our summer volunteers and interns which more then double our working population in the summer. It's sad seeing them go. They've livened the place up with their enthusiasm and earnestness.

The town is emptying out. By next weekend there won't be an RV to be found anywhere in the state. They're like snow geese, they're all flying south for the winter. I won't miss the RV's to be honest, but with all of the people going the shops and restaurants close down and the docks will become empty and the town looks a little forlorn. The birds are flying south. The fish are spawning. The fireweed is almost finished blooming. Time to buckle down and prep everything for winter.