March Madness

No, I'm not talking about college basketball here, but rather the crazy weather that has characterized this winter and launched us into March. We finally got some of the long-absent heavier snows that we should have seen during December, January, and much of February. It waited until the end of the month - to the eve of Leap Day (February 29) - before rolling in here to blanket the landscape.

The good news is that it wasn't all that much snow - maybe 6 inches or so, it didn't come down incessantly - maybe 18 hours, off and on, and it's already melting rapidly under 50 degree air temperatures and a blazing sun that I'm sure is having its impact. All of those factors make me much happier than I might otherwise be with a "heavy" snowfall. And they are nothing compared to the devastation that has befallen some communities in Illinois, Indiana and Kentucky from the spate of tornadoes that slammed into them in the past few days. I send them prayers for recovery, and count my blessings for the relatively minor effects the snow has had on life here.

Just before the snows started to fall on Tuesday, I was up very early (as usual) and found, as I looked out the window, that I was not alone. A small herd of deer were making their way up the hill to the lawn, as they have been inclined to do fairly regularly this winter, for their morning graze. There were a couple of fairly small ones lagging at the back of the group - fawns that are probably six months to a year old, I'd guess. What made this little group a bit unusual was how close to the house they came that morning. Usually they're a good 50-75 feet from the structure...far enough that they can dart quickly to the adjacent woods, but Tuesday one of the ringleaders showed no real reluctance to stroll just beyond the windows. So, of course, I grabbed my camera and tried to snap a few shots as quickly as I could before I spooked him (or her...).

It was fun to see them out there, finding plenty of room to roam and graze, along with the shelter of the woods. It struck me as I observed them that they really are well designed by Mother Nature to blend fairly invisibly into the landscape with their light brown coats matching the grey/putty color of the terrain.

The other neat thing about this time of year is the ongoing display I've been enjoying from my amaryllis bulbs. My previous post displayed the brilliant Valentine red blooms of my largest flower, but those blossoms have faded. I'm now admiring the salmon pink of my second and third bulbs, which have provided a bit of cheer in an otherwise bleak view of the outdoors.

My pink geraniums, wintered over from last summer, also are in bloom and continue to thrive in the south-facing windows and sunny warmth of this partially passive solar house. They've been wonderful reminders that Spring, and cute bunnies and pastel colored things are not far in the future...along with shamrocks and corned beef. I'm more than ready for all of them!

Happy Valentine's Day...and Farewell to a Great Diva

I think I posted a similar image last year, but I find it coincidental that my latest amaryllis - one I bought on sale after the holidays last year - decided to bloom not in December but just now, in time for Valentine's Day.


I have always loved Valentine's Day for the ruby rouge blast it supplies, usually in the middle of a snowy white winter...just long enough after Christmas and New Year's, just soon enough before the emerald greens of St. Patrick's Day, of spring and the pastels of Easter. This year, while we don't have the blanket of snow that is so typical of this season, the landscape is still bleak, leafless and lifeless, so the contrast to the vermilions and crimsons of Valentine's Day still remains strong.

It seems a bit incongruous, though, that on this bright and cheerful Valentine's Day, so many are still in shock and reeling from the sad news of the sudden death of singer Whitney Houston just a few days ago in California. I have written occasionally here of my affection for "great girl singers" and it is very sad that the last time I wrote of a very fine songstress here, it was to note the passing of one of the last of the great women singers of the mid-20th century, the legendary Lena Horne. How ironic, then, that Miss Horne was, as it turned out, Whitney Houston's singing idol. It is not surprising when one considers how alike they were - stunningly gorgeous women, phenomenal singers, grand personas of their respective eras.

It is lamentable, though, that unlike Miss Horne, who lived on into her 90s, Whitney left us much too soon at 48 - barely more than half Lena's age - with so many songs left unsung, depriving us of any chance of seeing her real redemption, and perhaps a full recovery from her demons, and many more years to enjoy her undeniable talent. Surely, she was not at her best in recent years, and her tribulations, unfortunately, were very public ones, but regardless of her more recent challenges, she leaves us with her legacy of remarkably beautiful, stirring and powerful vocals that will stand as a lasting testament to her great gift: one of the most glorious voices of our time.

Whitney Houston truly was one of a kind, a rare and unearthly talent, and whatever else one might say or think about her, her life and how she lived, or how she died, that simple fact is utterly without question.

For Whitney, I offer a Valentine's Day prayer that she knew, if nothing else, that she was greatly loved and will remain so by millions of people for many, many years to come.

Cure for Cabin Fever

It has been a busy month (when isn't it a busy month?!), but I'm taking a momentary break from the fray to share a few shots of the snow-covered terrain around the country house, an unexpected (but not surprising) visitor, and a bit of winter brilliance.

It's old, but, seemingly, ongoing news that the Northeast has been bombarded with heavy snows. There appears to be no let-up in sight either. (It is, obviously, midwinter.) We're pretty accustomed to heavy snows in these parts, but some years are far worse than others. (Last year was a snowfall cake-walk compared to this winter.) I've mentioned this before, but the good news is that we're well equipped to deal with it before it comes and throughout its duration - which is more than can be said for other parts of the mid-south and south, that are paralyzed by it, so things calm down as soon as the falling snow departs.

Here are a few shots of the most recent arrival, about a week or so ago:

An unexpected visitor strolled by with a friend the other day...it was bitterly cold, so I hope they were able to find some nourishment and protection in the woods next to the house...



Still, I'm not a fan of the white stuff. It's pretty when it first arrives at the start of the season (just before Christmas is nice), but, after about month, I've usually had enough. There's only so much shoveling and path-clearing I (and my muscles) can tolerate. I like my roads clear and dry, too, so, not being a "winter sports" enthusiast (I don't ski, snowboard, snowshoe and I haven't skated since childhood and don't care to go there again), I'm pretty much done with it at this point. After what, according to the weather experts, has been the eighth snowiest winter on record here in upstate New York (and still counting), I'm more than ready for Spring to come - much sooner than later, too, please!

A very dear friend recently made a holiday venture of potting up some flower bulbs - paperwhite narcissus and amaryllis - that she put in pretty containers and placed in a local consignment shop for sale. I gave her a number of extra white, hobnail glass planters that I had accumulated (since I've been clearing out the family home for the past month) along with some others of a suitable size and style that I picked up for her at my local Goodwill. It was, all told, a modestly successful initiative, but what my sweet friend didn't tell me was that she also intended to return one of my glass pots, containing a beautiful, big amaryllis bulb already started in potting soil, to me as a Christmas gift. It was a lovely gesture, and the nicest part was that the visual gratification would be delayed by a month, when the stalk and flowers gradually would emerge. Emerge they did and it has been a glorious sight watching the deep, coral-colored blooms slowly unfold and brighten some of these bleak snowy days of winter:

It's an affirmation that Spring is indeed coming...I know it is.