Winter Storm

Winter Storm

December 6, 2013

It began on the afternoon of Thursday, December 5, as a series of types of precipitation fell in rapid succession – first rain, then freezing rain, then sleet, then little pellets of ice.  The weather had been rather warm for early December, but then the temperature plummeted, and surfaces became shiny and slick.  Then, on top of all of this, snow fell and added deep, puffy layers.  It snowed heavily all evening, all night, and all the next day.  It was snowing when I went to the woods to see Cottonwood Pond.

This weather would not be much to those living in climes much further north, but it was unusual for southwestern Indiana, on the tail of autumn, well before the Winter Solstice.  Our climate and planting zone more closely resemble our neighbor to the south, Kentucky. 

We did not measure the snow at our place, but there were reports throughout southern Indiana ranging from 8” to 11”, with much deeper drifts.  Children woke up Friday morning to their first “snow day” of the year.  In fact, all schools and practically all area activities were cancelled, including any plans I had that involved driving to town.

In the above photo, taken from uphill at the edge of the woods, you can clearly see the great root ball and a bit of the pond below it.  You can also see the trunk of the fallen Cottonwood, covered with snow and stretching outward and uphill above the root ball.  It seems so much smaller from this distance.  If you follow the trunk upward, you can see where it is lodged in the fork of the two-trunk Red Oak.  The snow makes all of this so much clearer.

There were animal footprints going down the slope, made earlier that morning, but the continuous snowfall had since obscured their identity.

My own boots sunk deeply with each step down the slope.

This was my view of Cottonwood Pond from halfway down the slope.

 To the right, my fallen “resting tree” was resting under deep snow cover.

Some seeds of Sweet Cicely were still clinging to the plants, their sickle shapes clear against the snowy background.

Tree seedlings and saplings were stark and clear against the snow, too.  I thought this group looked like a family of stick figures – Mom and Dad taking the kids on a “snow day” walk.  The teenager is far in front of the group, of course.

 

 

A row of straight fallen tree trunks contrasted with the curved forms of saplings and young trees that had been bent under the weight of fallen neighbors.

It was difficult to recognize the rotten log that spans the creek and stretches past the pond.

 

 

A sheltered spot where the creek goes under the rotten log.  I wondered if there might be more stream life lodged in the mud and leaves there than in more exposed creek waters.

 And here flowed the creek, rippling and icy, edges and banks obscured by fluffy, thick snow.  Beyond that log is the winter version of the big Jewelweed patch.

The American Hornbeam (Blue Beech) at the edge of Cottonwood Pond, with leaves still clinging.

The “seep”.

Cottonwood Pond.   

The fluffy, snowy, encroaching edges made the pond seem smaller.

The pond had not developed solid ice yet, but a slushy surface was developing, and the boundary between water and snow had become fuzzy.

At the far edge of the pond, the deep snow created a small haven under a fallen tree.

Bits of snow fell from the root ball, making interesting white-edged circles in the pond surface.  Any dripping water had, by this time, become tiny icicles.

A branch of the American Hornbeam touched the pond surface.

On the top side of the root ball, the “little pond” looked like an aerial view of two lakes on the tundra.

The denizens of the root ball top were sagging under heavy snow.

The trunk of the fallen Cottonwood.

Snow atop a nearby log.

Stinging Nettle in the lowland

The layers of fallen leaves have sunk more deeply into the creek bottom and have begun to mash together.  A little bit of fall color was still evident.

As the pond surface was turning into opaque ice, I could not see the leaf layers there.  I would just trust that the Cycle of Life was continuing down below the surface, on the bottom, as the snow continued to fall on Cottonwood Pond.

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The next morning, December 7, I walked to the edge of the woods and looked down toward Cottonwood Pond.  Movement and a flash of bright red caught my eye.  A male Cardinal was flying from one root to another, and to limbs and branches outside the pond.  I am sure he was attracted to the seeds on plants around the pond, but I don't know if he was interested in something on or above the water, or the icy water itself. 

A  Dark-Eyed Junco was also flitting about here, doing its double-footed backwards jump-dig in the snow near the pond, but also perching briefly on the roots.  Both birds seemed to linger in the more sheltered area close to the root ball.

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