Beech Nut porch.
Sunlight was streaming across the landscape when I awoke this morning. Crows and a chickadee and house finches and house sparrows were all making noise out there. It seemed a hint of spring. But soon clouds moved over. I soon fell into the zone at my desk and—next thing I knew—I looked up to see snow falling. Light snow, but still.
Rocks.
The sun poked out again later. And during a great lunch with my friend Gus, the day seemed almost warm, with melting ice and watery sidewalks downtown.
Finally, in late afternoon, I grabbed dog and we set off for our daily ritual—our hike up Beech Hill. En route, it began to snow again. Hard. In fact, I might describe the scene coming up South Street as a whiteout. Sudden, heavy snow, a strong wind, extemely limited visibility. I got a little inner thrill to think we might be heading into some kind of an adventure.
No one else there when we arrived. In fact, with a fresh layer of snow on everything, I couldn’t even be sure that we weren’t the only ones to visit the hill all day. (Surely not.) Snowflakes swirled as we crunched on up the trail, whose firmest track we had trouble finding, what with the new even layer of white. As we reached the upper trail, snowflakes whipped frantically past, the wind pressed at our backs, great white drifts of new snow swept in bursts and clouds from the barren slopes.
Clearing sky.
Rounding the curve toward the summit, we had to turn into the wind. A wild, strong, steady wind. I had my hood up and my gloves on. Snowflakes covered Jack’s face. We circled Beech Nut, didn’t pause, headed right back down—and into the mouth of the squall. I found myself leaning my head against the strength of the wind and snow. Then, maybe a third of the way down, I happened to notice a great orange light in the western sky. A large clear patch approaching. Down here, the snow still swirled; up there, the sky was clear. Within just a minute or two, a wide empty window opened high in the southwest. I could see distant, Hudson-River-School-type clouds in the distance. And to the left of that, bright, fire-colored orange in the area of the setting sun.
Beech Nut.
What an amazing, riotous scene. Harsh, wild, wet conditions around me, a great vacant atmosphere above. As we reached the foot of the trail, a sky like a watercolor took shape to the southwest. Deep, deep blues immediately adjacent a retina-searing cantaloupe-colored glow.
I thought I heard faint bird calls at the parking lot, but these turned out to be the squeaking of hardwood branches rubbing against each other in the wind. Above us, the sky had become suddenly blue.
Tonight is a night of hard bright stars. Tomorrow is supposed to be wickedly, mercilessly cold.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 4:30 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
No birds seen or heard on the hill today.
Elsewhere
1. American crow
2. House sparrow
3. House finch
4. Black-capped chickadee
5. Herring gull
6. Rock pigeon
Hills and sky.
Tags: American crow, black-capped chickadee, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, rock pigeon
