Of snow and light

It feels like it has been overcast for months with occasional periods of sun here and there. With the level of light in the January sky, the lighthouse beacon is shining in the late morning. 

Every day I look for a new focus, something to brighten the grey day. The boardwalk usually accommodates me. 

One day recently, after a snowfall, snow collected as fluffy whiteness in some areas. Leafless shrubs along the trail were covered. 

Some had an abundance of the fluffiness.

Near the end of the boardwalk, one scene was particularly striking with snow-filled shrubs standing in ice.

Nearby, water dripped from the trees as the snow melted.

My husband fed peanuts to the chickadees hanging out at a feeder in the area.

At the bridge, a small flock of Dark-eyed Juncos were feeding on the birdseed left by walkers. 

The juncos scatter quickly when walkers approach. They, unlike chickadees and blue jays, still fear humans but eat the treats they leave behind.

We will be back.

A chorus

The audience was moving, riding through a theatre with a tree lined stage which was full of performers, many unseen. 

Their voices were varied, some familiar, many not. My husband and I were part of this audience, in front row seats on a calm spring morning as we rode our bikes on the Confederation Trail from Summerside, Prince Edward Island.

The performers were feathered, in a chorus singing their hearts out as we rode by. 

The voices of the Song Sparrows were recognizable as were the Blue Jays. Robins hopped along the sides of the trail on occasion but didn’t stop long enough for photos. Occasionally we could hear them in the chorus. If only we could have identified all the songsters.

A hawk cast a shadow on the trail while Black Ducks took to flight as we rode by, quacking as they went.

Riding along, we could hear the choir as we rode into and out of the songsters’ positions. Thousands of performers put on their best show.

                                                                Snow still fills the ditches in places.

We smiled the entire time.

Spring around here

These days, my husband and I are on the boardwalk any day the weather permits. Since we are not seeing our grandchildren, family or friends, except via technology, the outdoors and exercise are more important than ever.

Since pandemic isolation keeps us physically away from others, keeping up with fellow bloggers is important too. The signs of spring in your blogs are spectacular as bulbs erupt and bloom and trees blossom. Even the autumn looks of Australia and New Zealand are filled with colour. As we walk here, we look for signs of spring around us, though they don’t involve colour. Here, disappearing ice and snow signal spring. These photos were taken just over a week in time. They show the melting ice, shifting and thinning sea ice and melting snow. 

From the bridge, looking out to the harbour, 

the snow covered ice gave way to clear ice 

which then melted.

When it’s windy, the sea ice moves around. The Northumberland Strait 

which was full of ice a few days ago is now open, with ice predominantly along the shoreline of the island.

Along the walkway, 

the snow is disappearing as well.

While there aren’t any blossoms or blooms, our time in the spring air as the temperature rises gives us hope for the colour to come and the end of the pandemic.

A scad of snow

We had snow overnight and the air was cold but without any wind. It was a fall morning when you could see your breath but conditions were perfect for a walk along the Rotary Friendship Park.

In Newfoundland vernacular, this amount of snow qualifies as a scad. It was just enough snow to highlight the landscape along the trail.

There are a few trees which have held their leaves in spite of the strong winds we have had for the last two months. 

The branches overhead draw the eye skyward.

A picnic table nearby won’t be hosting too many picnics this morning.

The trail between the fields kept us going on and on into the distance. 

By the end of our walk, the snow was melting. It was an invigorating walk with just enough snow for a taste of winter.

 

 

April on Confederation Trail

Shade along the Confederation Trail, Prince Edward Island, prevents the snow from melting on the old rail bed.

 

While the fields beyond the greenbelt are bare, 

 

areas of deep drifted snow on the trail are crusted and crunchy under foot. 

 

Georgie, the golden grand-dog is delighted to be out for a run.

 

The snow slows us down as we walk along, giving us time to observe the wind damage from the past winter. There is a lot of damage as trees and branches have fallen the last several months though none on the trail itself.

 

I am always surprised by the determination and resilience of trees here. Hydro lines run along part of the trail and trees in that area are trimmed periodically to ensure they don't interfere with the lines. Still the trees grow, sending up thin branches into the light. It is hard to hold a good tree back.

 

Some of the fields were seeded last autumn to prevent erosion. 

 

Those left unseeded are muddy this spring. One on the lower side of the trail has a pool of water along the tree line. Before long, the water will soak into the soil as it thaws.

 

The geese have been back since the first of spring and we found one of their haunts that day. A field, about mid way between roads which intersect the trail, away from any houses, was covered with hundreds of geese.

 

Georgie was quiet but something spooked them and off they went, 

 

with much bravado. 

 

The birches stand out against the gray and earthy tones this time of year.

 

They are always a favourite.

 

April on the trail highlights the soil, the trees and animal life, such as the geese, amid the vestiges of winter.