Winter time

There is something oddly comforting to me at this time of year about persistent snow cover and daylight temperatures that stay below freezing. I worry about mild winters in New England. It doesn’t feel at all right when the sap runs in January, as it did last year, or when our lakes never really ice over. I’d rather spend a few extra mornings shoveling snow than endure a muddy midwinter.I can tell the mornings have been quite cold this past week by the increase in activity at my bird feeders. The old lilac bush by the kitchen window hosts feeding stations offering suet, nyjer seed and black oil sunflower seeds. These have attracted a regular procession of the usual goldfinches, white breasted nuthatches, dark-eyed juncos and downy woodpeckers, but also some more northerly species that have ventured down to our latitude in search of better forage. These have included both pine siskins and common redpoles this week. I can remember one winter, back in the early 1980s when I was growing up in Dutchess County, N.Y., when the temperature in late December reached 32 below zero and we had flocks of evening grosbeaks in our yard. I wouldn’t mind seeing those birds again, but without those extreme temperatures. That year we had to work very hard to keep my sister’s pony warm in the stable, and ice froze solid in the water pails. My pet rabbit moved indoors as well, and occupied the downstairs bathroom for a week or two until the brutal cold eased its grip on the land. There is ice today in sections of the Housatonic River, especially to the north of Bulls Bridge in Kent, which bodes well for the annual ice watch contest in that community. I have not yet been out pond skating, but have my eye on a couple of favorite spots, and if the weather holds I may give one of these a try next weekend. In the meantime, the family and I have taken advantage of Sunday public skating at Salisbury School, with new Christmas skates for the youngest and ever-increasing confidence for both children as they regain their ice legs.I’ve been waiting for the right kind of snow to make a snow shelter in our backyard. It needs to be deep and wet enough to pack into blocks if we are to make an igloo or a snow cave. This will require a significant snow storm, and I am careful what I wish for because these come with other consequences not half as enjoyable. Still, the opportunity to do this with my growing family has a time limit, and if we miss the moment when conditions are right it may not be repeated. Each season has its own character and plays out differently year to year. If you make the time, and time it right, there is magic still in the bleak midwinter. Tim Abbott is program director of Housatonic Valley Association’s Litchfield Hills Greenprint. His blog is at greensleeves.typepad.com.