The Outside Story: Crows in Winter

During winter, I catch glimpses of crows as they fly swiftly over our valley, cawing, or gather in small groups to feed on roadkill along the highway.

It’s mid- January as I write this article. My garden, and most likely yours too, is sleeping under a light covering of snow.

During the beginning of the month, when it wasn’t below zero, I lost heat. Sitting at my computer, not moving around the house or yard, my hands were icy.

The temperature is in the low teens. My chainsaw hums smoothly. The machine likes this temperature. I stand in six inches of snow next to a huge old maple that got toppled by a strong wind a few weeks ago.

During our family’s early years in Vermont, my friend Deborah warned me that January was the coldest month. “There’s usually one week every January when the temperature never gets above freezing,” she said.

Forsythia in February? Impossible, you say? Not so. A vase full of flowers from the garden won’t take much more effort than harvesting some branches to force them to bloom.

The tight fit limits my mobility; even the most basic movements, such as reaching across my chest to put on my seatbelt, become full-body workouts. I once hit my target heart rate just trying to close the back hatch on the car.

What about the garden in winter, as it sleeps under a blanket snow? This can be equally beautiful. It’s all about the contrast of the seasons — something that I relish about living in the Green Mountain State.

My wife and I bought our seasons passes for the Rikert Nordic Center today. In truth, it was more of a step of hope than one based on the present reality.

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