The scene from one of our living room windows, as we lie on our couch. Waiting for spring. Waiting. Waiting.
I think that if I were in Moscow, I shouldn’t mind about the weather.
Today’s Phenological Update:
A slight warming yesterday and today, with dustings of snow. In the early afternoon yesterday I walked to the library, and kept a sharp eye peeled for phenology. I saw many small footprints, birds and squirrels and rabbits in the new fallen snow, but I did not actually see any birds or squirrels or rabbits. The sun was a silver ball up behind the clouds. A long-haired cat has been eyeing the sparrows in our yard as they take turns raiding the bird feeder. He’s a malevolent looking beast, perhaps tortoiseshell, but mostly black and wary, a shadow across the snow as he bolts whenever I come into the yard, vanishing like a ghost.
Not much for phenology today, I’m afraid.
It’s been awhile since I last downloaded pictures from my camera – here’s a shot of festivus lighting. Kind of puts me back in the spirit. I’m ready to air some grievances.
Today’s Phenological Note:
Patient and persistent observers may notice many of the smaller varmints walking, hopping, or otherwise moving backwards during the snowy winter months, as they attempt to deceive predators as to their actual paths through the snow. It is very difficult to catch them in the act — it usually requires many minutes of careful observation from a hidden vantage point. In fact, more often than not, an animal’s trail through freshly fallen snow leads in the exact opposite direction from the animal’s true path. While most predators have caught on to this simple ploy, the predators also know that the prey knows that the predators know, and so you will often see a predator ignore a trail entirely, rather than trying to out-think the wily prey. Careful observers may notice a bit of annoyance on the predators’ faces as they walk away from the problem. Other times the predator will pretend that he just doesn’t even see the trail.
These are the lights of the Town Talk Diner, on Lake Street. Existed for a number of years as a tiny little diner, then, bought, expanded, turned into a much larger fancy eating place that got great reviews and was not cheap. Then, suddenly, closed. That was a year or two ago, and been closed ever since. Too bad. Perhaps they should have left it alone?
Today’s phenological Note:
The rabbits. They are up to something. Along the Mississippi River, and in South Minneapolis. Whenever you look at them they suddenly stop what they are doing and stare back at you, almost aggressively, until you have to look away. The look in their eyes is cold and calculating. Defiant. They are plotting something. I feel sure of it. Something big.
Downtown St. Paul; I suppose if you want to you can see the moon as a big grin up there in the sky. Another day done, the moon takes over.
Same time and place. Different building. The First National Bank building in Saint Paul is a classic old landmark. It opened in 1931. Here it presents a rather sinister aspect, calling to mind, perhaps, some dark tower of evil in one of the more dangerous neighborhoods of Middle Earth. (Or, some might say, in present day St. Paul.)
End of Day.
I’m waiting for the bus in downtown St. Paul, the express bus in this instance, which will take me to downtown Minneapolis. It was a murky dusk, and a cold wind shivered me bones. It was the end of the work day, and I watched occasional lights winking out in the building a block away, as people closed up shop for the night, and the bus continued to not arrive. Lights out. Coat on. Tomorrow will be another day.