Red Boots, A Blizzard Warning, and Mercedes Limousines

Purrrl, who can tell time, woke me up with gentle paw taps at 6:00 so that I could get ready for work. Purrrl did not know that the blizzard outside had already inspired work to be cancelled. When she woke me, I had been dreaming that I was in Cape May, carrying around a fat Psychology textbook with Hannah Arendt on the cover, and the neighbors I hardly knew were trying to get me to drive them somewhere in my fictitious extra-long vintage Mercedes. I didn't know where they had to go, but I had to get to class and I was frightened of them. Perhaps Purrrl woke me up because she could sense that I was in distress. I've never seen one of these while awake, but they do exist, with three rows of seats just like in my dream!

Purrrl and I walked into the kitchen where the tiny ice pellets from the storm were hitting that window with a racket much louder than the bedroom. Maybe that's what had Purrrl concerned. Cats act crazy during storms. Once I was fully awake, she settled down, and we both found our spots in the living room. I recognized the Psychology book from the dream. It was actually my thick World War II history book that I'm reading for a trip I'm taking in May. Instead of Arendt on the cover it shows two lines of soldiers trudging through snow in helmets on their heads and masks over their mouths and noses. I don't know why I wasn't carrying the actual book in the dream or why it was Psychology. I never studied Psychology (formally) for more than a semester, and I never studied Hannah Arendt at all. (Maybe she appeared because I'm currently binge-watching Transparent, and the Pfefferman Family is Jewish. I would be surprised if I made that connection, even subconsciously.)

The storm was supposed to be a big deal. We were supposed to get 10-18 inches, or 8-14", but what actually happened is that the snow alternated with ice and what we have now is a highly compact eight inches of heavy slushy stuff which the meteorologists say will freeze overnight and make travel tomorrow treacherous at least until it melts back to slush. I saw a stray cat walking across the back yard on top of the snow, and wouldn't you know, even twenty-pound Gladys could walk on top of it when we ventured out in the afternoon. Here's the proof:

It's as if she walked through a layer of thick dust.

I wanted to feed the birds, so Fred, Gladys, and I walked outside after watching a documentary about the Vikings. We felt adventurous. The birds got fed although the feeders had ice and snow in them and we couldn't get it all out.

We couldn't see it from inside, but tiny ice pellets were shooting out of the sky still. We didn't mean to linger long, but I wanted to shoot some photos and try out my new red boots, and Fred wanted to dig a canal next to the curb so that the melting slush can drain down into the rain grate which happens to be in front of my house. Gladys was in no hurry to go inside (she has that double coat from her ancestors' days on the Shetland Islands where Vikings explored) and seems to be suggesting a backyard picnic.

The red boots worked, and I was glad to finally have the chance to test them out. I think I bought them back in the fall. I ALWAYS wanted a pair of these:

I took some snowy photos...

A corner of Spring Lake (Hamilton-Trenton Marsh) and Sturgeon Lake beyond (from my back yard)

Another view of the frozen Marsh

And one more (this was a big reason why I bought this house 23 years ago.)

There have been some casualties:

Daffodil cadavers (I wish I would have thought to cut these before the cold weather returned.)

And then there's the pussy willow tree I grew from a stick that a lady gave me years ago at the public library. This tree is a source of pride for me and even made it into one of my essays because it looks like Hawthorne fairy trees I saw in Connemara, Ireland. And it happens to be in my Fairy Garden. Coincidentally. Or not.

Mallards & Buffleheads & Goldeneyes

The lake trail (with some other guy and his sweatered bulldog up ahead)

Good Morning, Readers. Fred and Gladys and I have been walking in the Hamilton-Trenton Marsh lately, not as a formal New Year's exercise resolution, but just 'because'. One of these days I will remember to set the pedometer app to measure the walk, but I estimate that it is about two miles: from the house, around the corner, down the hill, around the lake, up the hill, and back home. This post is more pictorial than literary, and I hope you will have the sensation that you came along with us but without the ever-so-slight ache in your calves. BTW, this area is also known as John Roebling Park, Spring Lake, and most recently, Abbott Marshlands.

Beaver architecture, ca. 2016

This is Spring Lake

Action shot: Gladys loves the Marsh!

Tree down! This tree always dreamed of being a dock.

Water Snakes: usually I don't see these.

ROOTS...

AND BERRIES...

and BIRDS:

Look between the Phragmites to see the Mallard

Goldeneyes? Buffleheads? I think I saw some of each, but I walked away without good evidence.

The soundtrack of our walk was provided by these noisy Canada Geese.

As you can see by our walk, there's plenty of life being lived in the winter marsh. I'm not 100% sure that my bird identifications are 100% correct, but I did my best post-walk research with my Peterson and Kaufman bird guides. It is a truth universally acknowledged by birders that birds in the wild do not stand still to pose for photographers or amateur birders. What fun would it be if they did?

Hamilton-Trenton Marsh

I've just added a new online photo album to my list on the right side of this blog. There is now an album of 40 photos from all seasons in the Hamilton-Trenton Marsh. This Mercer County park is behind my house ("location, location, location!") and gives us beautiful views all year. In the winter when the leaves are off the trees, we can see the whole of Spring Lake from the living room. When the leaves form in the spring, we have less of a view, but this means the birds are back! Having the marsh right next door, we see and hear some interesting species, but since I'm not a birder I can't identify all of them. I have seen the usual robins, cardinals, bluejays, goldfinches but also catbirds, red-winged blackbirds, owls, and a pheasant. I'm still trying to get some good photos of these birds.

The marsh is a great place to walk, with a camera or with a dog! Gladys the Sheltie puppy had an interesting experience months ago when she was tiny: she peered over the edge of the lake's bank and saw a puppy looking back a her. As she tried to get a better look, she tumbled head-first into the water! I should have re-named her Narcissus--wasn't he the Greek god who did just about the same thing in a myth? Almost any time of year there are great nature shots. The swans usually cooperate, and there are usually Canada geese and ducks. At the Friends of the Marsh Photography Exhibit (currently at the Ellarslie Museum in Trenton) I have seen some great shots of more unusual species such as great blue herons and beaver. I haven't been lucky enought to catch those yet. Here are my favorite swan and turtle photos: